


Tyra's Tale

by CaptainNightGale



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Minor Character Death, Own Characters - Freeform, Vampires, Werewolves, about as many pokemon haha, fan fiction, fanfic by a technicality, mostly it's kids not being allowed to be kids and relying on each other to survive, not much of either vamps or weres, there's a war going on, there's some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2019-04-14 23:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 23,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14146653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainNightGale/pseuds/CaptainNightGale
Summary: Tyra only wants to protect her sister. So when their home is attacked by vampires when they're ten, she leads Ylva into the forest where they make their life anew, away from the war. Everything is fine.Until the world comes crashing back in.(A novella I convinced my friend to let me write bc technically it's her idea for a book/film series inside the larger fanfic that we write together. If you want more info you should probably go ask @Werebudgie on deviantart or tumblr)





	1. Chapter 1

Tyra woke with a jolt, hand clenching around the necklace at her throat. Something was wrong. _Ylva_.

 She raised her head and peered across to her sister’s bed. No, her sister was there – curled up under all the blankets she could manage, sleeping. So what was wrong?

 A dull amber flickered across the wall opposite their window as the curtains shifted in the wind. Just the street lamps.

 Nothing wrong. Except…

 Tyra slipped out of bed and padded across the worn carpet, carefully avoiding the toys strewn across the length of their room.

 Pushing the curtain aside, she leant up on her toes to peer outside. The acrid smell of smoke wound its way into the room and she muffled a cough.

 Then the screaming started.

 Tyra jumped back from the window as a distorted shadow bent across the building opposite. That hadn’t been a human shadow. Can’t have been. Not with – with –

 “Ylva!” She ran to her sister’s bed, shaking her awake.

 “Wha – what is it?” Ylva blinked, eyes dull with sleep.

 Tyra tugged her from under the blankets. “Come on.”

 There was a sharp _rat-tat-tat_ from outside. Something screamed, something not human.

 Ylva shrieked and ducked as their window shattered inwards.

 Tyra flinched as well, staring in horror at the… at the thing that had fallen through. Something big and dark and – and –

 Their door slammed open and the room was filled with the sharp retort of gunfire as their father shot at the monster.

 “Tyra, Ylva!” Their mother was behind him, beckoning to them. “Come here.”

 Ylva needed no further prompting, and bolted for their mother with Tyra not far behind her.

 The three of them ran down the back stairs, and their mother had to collar them before they left the house altogether.

 “It’s not safe out there!”

 “But – dad always said–”

 “Down here.” Their mother unbolted the cellar door. “It’s not safe outside.”

 Tyra looked up at the ceiling. The gunfire had stopped.

 Ylva peered into the darkness of the cellar. “But there are – there are _things_ down there.”

 “I’ll protect you.” Tyra took her twin’s hand. “I promise.”

 Their mother ushered them down the steps into the darkness, and flicked the switch at the bottom of the stairs.

 A dull orange light flickered on above them, lighting up the space they were not normally allowed into.

 Tyra stared around, drinking in their surroundings. On one side, the massive freezers where their father stored the animals he brought back from his trips.

 The other walls held weapons and traps, and she’d seen some of them before. He took them into the woods with him. Sometimes he even let her hold one of the guns, but they were heavy. She couldn’t aim very well. Her mother didn’t like her using them, so she hadn’t much.

 Their mother sat down on the couch, pulling both girls with her.

 Ylva shrank into her side, but Tyra – now that the danger was over for the moment – wanted to explore this new place. She tugged free and ran to the nearest wall. The weapons were all out of her reach, even standing on her tiptoes.

 “Leave them be, Tyra.”

 She whipped around to see their father at the top of the stairs, bolting the door. “What was that thing?”

 “Never you mind,” he replied gruffly, moving lightly down the stairs. “We’ll be safe in here.”

 Tyra drew back from the wall and watched as he strode to one of the tables and placed his gun on it, reaching for a box.

 “Tyra.”

 The sounds were quieter from outside. Maybe the monsters were gone.

 The floor was _cold_ down here. No carpet.

 Tyra rubbed at her arms, suddenly aware of just how cold she actually was in just her thin nightie.

 “Tyra, come over here.”

 Ylva was crying quietly, face buried in her hands.

 “What is it?” Tyra crept back to her side, clambering onto the couch beside her. “I’m here.”

 “I left Buns upstairs. He must be frightened.”

 “No, it’s ok.” Their mother hugged Ylva to her side. “He’s good at hiding, isn’t he? They won’t find him at all.”

 “But he doesn’t _like_ being on his own!”

 Tyra stroked her sister’s hair and hopped down, making her way to the stairs.

 “Tyra!”

 “I’m just going to get Buns!” She started up the stairs.

 “Tyra, get back here!”

 She couldn’t hear anything from beyond the door. It was probably safe now.

 Their dad yanked her back and into the air.

 “No, let me get Buns! Ylva needs him!” She struggled, but he had a tight hold.

 “I’ll get him.” He put her down at the bottom of the stairs. “You look after your sister and mother, alright?”

 “But–”

 He pressed the gun she practised with into her hands. “I’m relying on you, alright?”

 “Sigmund,” their mother started, “I don’t think–”

 “Asta,” he said gently, standing up. “I won’t be long.”

 Tyra stood back, lifting the gun. It was heavy enough to need both of her hands, and she gripped it tightly.

 “Remember.” He tilted her head up to look at him. “Loose grip, fire quick.”

 “What if I miss?”

 “Then you fire again.” He smiled. “Look after them.”

 Tyra nodded, stepping back.

 Sigmund climbed the stairs and listened carefully at the door before leaving, locking it behind him.

 Tyra stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding the gun as steadily as she could.

 Her arms started to ache, but she gritted her teeth and fought it out.

 It was quiet upstairs. No sound at all.

 Then a muffled shot rang out.

 Tyra whipped her head up to the ceiling.

 Ylva whimpered and huddled into their mother’s side.

 “Tyra, come over here.”

 Tyra crept back to them, eyes still on the door.

 Dull thumps, getting closer.

 The gun in Tyra’s hands was shaking.

 Their mother took it from her, and Tyra crept up beside her sister.

 “Dad’s coming back?” Ylva looked up.

 “There’s not much that could stop him,” Asta said, forcing a smile.

 “He’ll bring Buns safe,” Tyra said, taking Ylva’s hand. “You’ll see.”

 Ylva clutched at Tyra, eyes fixed on the door.

 Something slammed into it.

 Both the girls jumped, clinging to each other.

 Their mother adjusted her grip on the gun, licking dry lips.

 Scraping, as if a knife was being drawn against the door. Or claws.

 Asta stood up and the girls crouched down on the couch. She made her way to the bottom of the stairs and brought the gun up to point steadily at it. “Sigmund?”

 The scratching stopped. Heavy knocks, instead.

 Asta frowned.

 The door burst open, and Asta fired reflexively.

 Both girls ducked as something came screeching down the stairs.

 Asta screamed.

 Ylva was crying into a cushion, pressing it over her face.

 Tyra huddled beside her sister and chanced a glance over the couch.

 The monster stood hunched over their mother at the bottom of the stairs. It was human _shaped_ , but… but wrong.

 Tyra tightened her grip on the stone of her necklace, feeling it warm under her hand.

 It lifted its head, sniffing at the air. As it turned around, she saw the blood covering its mouth and dripping from its chin. The over long teeth that jutted out, gleaming red.

 Tyra muffled her gasp, but the monster heard.

 It stood, dropping their mother to the side.

 Tyra jumped to the side, over her sister, and ran for the nearest weapons.

 It lunged after her.

 She got there first, but it was pointless – she couldn’t reach anything – it was all too high up –

 The monster grabbed her by the collar of her nightie, lifting her from her feet. Its claws scratched her neck and she struck out wildly with her fists and feet, kicking at the air.

 It laughed, a bone-chilling, paralysing laugh.

 “Get off her!”

 It stopped and looked down.

 Ylva stood resolute, holding the gun in her quivering hands. “Let go of her,” she repeated.

 “Ylva–” Tyra blinked and focused, her nightie tight on her throat. She scrabbled futilely at it – and the necklace twisted out of the material and hung free between them.

 The effect was instantaneous. The monster dropped her and leapt back, hissing.

 Tyra fell to the ground on her knees, gasping. She looked up, pulling her necklace off. The stone glittered in the orange light, and the monster cowered away.

 “Ha!” Tyra stood up, looking triumphantly to Ylva.

 Ylva smiled, and then shrieked as the monster lunged for her. She got off a shot – which missed, going wide – before the gun went clattering away and she slammed into the wall.

 “Get off her!” Tyra charged, wielding the necklace like a dagger.

 The monster turned, raising a clawed hand as if to bat her away.

 Tyra ducked its swing and jumped forward, pushing the necklace into its face.

 It screeched, falling back.

 Her momentum kept her going with it, and they tumbled over the floor together, raising dust.

 Tyra dropped to the floor and shrieked, holding the necklace out before her as the monster crashed on top of her, closing her eyes.

 It was heavy, but she locked her trembling elbows and held it away as much as she could.

 Its scream was cut off, and Tyra’s arms couldn’t hold it up anymore. It fell over her, teeth just nicking her skin without drawing blood.

 “Ty – Tyra?” Ylva was groggy, rubbing her head where she’d hit it against the wall.

 Tyra opened her eyes.

 The monster was lying splayed on top of her, but it wasn’t moving.

 Tyra shrieked and pushed it away, wriggling out from under it.

 It rolled over onto its back, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Her necklace was lodged in one of its eyes, welling blood.

 “I – I–” She turned away, retching.

 Ylva closed her eyes, face white.

 Tyra pushed herself to her sister’s side, and they held onto each other.

 No one came. Not their mother – still lying at the bottom of the stairs – or their father. They were alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have some very determined ten year olds.

Somehow, they fell asleep.

Tyra woke first, and the events of the night came rushing back to her when she saw the body lying nearby. She stifled a cry and shut her eyes tightly.

Ylva was a comforting warmth beside her, still holding her arm.

Tyra slowly disentangled herself and stood up, pulling at the torn and bloodstained collar of her nightie. “Ylva.” She crouched to wake her sister. “Ylva.”

Ylva woke slowly and then started, trembling as she looked around. “Where–”

“Come on.” Tyra pulled her to her feet. “We have to… to get dressed.”

Ylva hugged her body and stumbled after Tyra. Both of them tried to avoid seeing their mother’s body at the base of the stairs, but they had to step over her to leave.

Ylva choked back a sob. Tyra’s eyes were dry and she fought to keep them that way.

“What are we going to do?”

Tyra bit her lip. “Maybe dad… maybe dad is still…”

The door swung awkwardly on its hinges. Blood stained the floor and the walls, already dried in.

Tyra led Ylva up the main stairs and back into their room, mercifully monster free. The curtains flapped in front of the broken window, but that was the only thing out of the ordinary.

Tyra dropped Ylva’s hand and pulled off her nightie, hurrying to get dressed.

Ylva did the same and then pulled apart her bed as Tyra started to shove clothes into a bag. “Where’s Buns?”

Tyra halted. “Dad will have her, maybe.”

Ylva nodded and ran from their room.

“Wait – Ylva!” Tyra ran after her sister.

Ylva stopped at the top of the back stairs and let out a shriek.

Tyra ran to her side and stared down.

Their father lay, hopelessly twisted, at the bottom of the stairs. Everything about him was stained red, or rust brown.

Ylva looked away, trembling. A floppy toy buneary lay abandoned to the side, thrown clear of the stairs. She picked it up, hugging it to her.

Tyra swallowed. “We… Ylva, come on.” She turned back to their room.

“Where are we going?” Ylva hurried after her.

“Somewhere safer.” Tyra pulled the bag shut after throwing more clothes into it.

“But…”

“I’ll look after us.” Tyra led her back down the front stairs and into the kitchen, where she clambered up onto the counters and started to pull food out of the cupboards.

Cereal, jam, bread, chocolate – anything she could reach.

“Get another bag. Dad – dad’s hunting bag.”

Ylva nodded and ran to get it.

Together they packed the food into the two bags. Ylva found their winter coats and boots. Tyra braved the upstairs of the house to creep into their parents’ room for blankets, grabbing the picture from the bedside table at the same time.

They met at the back door, bags full to bursting.

Tyra helped Ylva on with the lighter one, and then hesitated. “Wait here.”

“What are you–”

Tyra ran back into the house and halted before the cellar door.

“Tyra?”

She pulled it open and plunged down the stairs, clenching her jaw.

Tyra found the gun again, and climbed up onto the tables to get the box of ammo. Their father had shown her it, once. Maybe she could remember how to fill it.

She pulled down other weapons that she could reach from the table, too, and put them into one of the game sacks she found lying in the corner. Too heavy to carry – she dragged it back up after her, thumping against the steps.

It was a struggle getting it past their mother’s corpse.

Tyra shut her eyes tight and tugged, refusing to cry.

Ylva’s soft hands encircled hers, and together they got it back upstairs.

Tyra pulled the door shut on the cellar, but it didn’t sit right anymore. Too buckled in.

Ylva was watching her, Buns held tight in her hands. “Where are we going to go? To – to Ms Ahlgren’s house?”

Tyra shook her head, wrestling her own rucksack on. “Somewhere dad showed me.”

“Into – into the woods?” Ylva flicked glances between the open back door and the trees beyond the wall and her sister.

Tyra nodded determinedly and left the house, tugging the sack of weapons behind her. “Come on.”

Ylva hesitated on the door step.

Tyra didn’t look back.

As Tyra tugged open the gate – it moved smoothly on its hinges – Ylva ran out after her sister and picked up the end of the sack.

Tyra smiled at her. “I’ll look after you. I promise.”

Together, they walked into the forest, not looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

The forest was tangled and dense, and only got worse the further in that they got.

 Tyra led the way along winding trails left by wild pokémon, scanning the ground.

 They stopped briefly for food when the sun climbed high overhead, but Tyra kept them moving on, along a half-remembered trail their father had taken her on once.

 Ylva yanked her back, once, and Tyra stumbled aside as a trap snapped shut where she’d almost placed her leg.

 The twins exchanged frightened glances. Ylva bit her lip and hugged Buns to her chest. Tyra reached to pick up a dead branch, and poked the ground ahead of them carefully as they moved on.

 “Tyra,” Ylva whispered, gaze flickering about the darkening forest, “Shouldn’t we stop soon?”

 “It won’t be safe here, I wanna–” Tyra looked around.

 Everything had changed with the onset of night. Trees loomed dark, branches clacked above them.

 Somewhere, a noctowl hooted.

 “Let’s stop here,” Ylva said, her voice small.

 Tyra nodded and nudged her sister around a big tree beside them.

 The roots parted out on the other side, leaving a gap large enough for the two of them to huddle down into.

 Ylva dropped her bag and curled in first, holding tight to Buns.

 Tyra pulled the bags up close beside them and pulled out blankets from the top of one of them. “Are you hungry?”

 Ylva shook her head.

 Tyra huddled down beside her and pulled the blanket over both of them.

 Ylva shifted to get closer, and Tyra hugged her sister.

 “We’ll be ok. We’ll find somewhere tomorrow.”

 

 Tyra woke, screaming as the monster rushed towards her.

 Bright sunlight flooded her vision and for a moment, Tyra couldn’t see anything at all.

 The forest rearranged itself around her, and she shoved her fist into her mouth as she fought for silence.

 Beside her, Ylva shifted in her sleep, clutching at Buns.

 Tyra shuddered and carefully disentangled herself from her sister to stand up, rearranging the blanket to keep Ylva warm.

 Something skittered away through the bushes, rustling last year’s dead leaves in its wake.

 Tyra turned in a careful circle, studying the trees and bushes. She didn’t recognise this part of the forest at _all_.

 Ylva whimpered, settling back into the warmth Tyra had left. Then she started awake, looking around. “Ty–”

 “I’m here.” Tyra crouched down before her, catching her sister’s hands. “See?”

 Ylva focused on her, the panic fading from her eyes.

 “C’mon.” Tyra tugged open the bag of food. “Let’s eat.”

 They made a meal of chocolate and bread, washing it down with water.

 “Where are we going?” Ylva asked, once the bags were packed and back on.

 “Somewhere dad showed me.” Tyra picked up the handles of the sack and pulled it back onto the path, looking around. “It’s just…”

 Ylva watched her, biting her lip. “We’re lost, aren’t we?”

 “No.” Tyra frowned and set off. “This way.”

 Ylva hurried to follow her.

 It hadn’t taken a day to get there before. Maybe they _were_ lost.

 No. They couldn’t be. They had to be ok. She’d _promised_.

She walked on, following the path doggedly.

 Ylva followed after her wordlessly, watching the surroundings.

 Tyra kept them going past midday, stopping briefly for food. “Wait… wait here a moment.” She shrugged off her bag and hurried on along the path.

 “Tyra – wait!” Ylva raced after her. “Where are you going?”

 “I’m just checking the path.”

 “Don’t leave me alone.”

 “I – I won’t.” Tyra took her hand. “I’m sorry.”

 Ylva nodded, tightening her grip. They returned to pick up their bags, and they walked on into the forest.

 Tyra plodded determinedly ahead. She _had_ to find them a safe place. She _had_ to remember where it was… She had to keep her sister safe. __


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Short piece!  
>  Let's make a home.  
>  I'm glad we got a nice part for Christmas :3  
>  What? I'm not counting down the weeks until it all goes to shit, why would I do that? (It's four, by the way)

 “Tyra?” Ylva tugged at her sleeve. “ _Tyra_.”

 Tyra blinked. “Yeah?” She looked around.

 Ylva pointed through a gap in the trees.

 There was a clearing with a house in the middle of it. Not the one she remembered. A stream ran across it, gleaming in the setting sun.

 “That’s it!” She stepped between the trees and tripped over a root, tumbling down the slight incline.

 “Tyra!” Ylva gasped and ran after her. “Are you alright?”

 Tyra giggled as she came to a halt on her side. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She scrambled to her feet. “C’mon, let’s go check it out.”

 Ylva hung back, and Tyra grabbed her hand, dragging her forward.

 The door swung open as she pushed it, squeaking slightly.

 Inside was neat and clean, but sparse. Very little decoration apart from hunting trophies – stantler horns, the talons of birds, and a whole, _huge_ remoraid mounted on the wall.

 Tyra stepped in, the floor smooth and polished below her shoes. It smelt stale, but not too bad. Just unlived in.

 Ylva let go of her hand, shrugging off her bag.

 Tyra dropped hers, and together they explored the house.

 It was all on one floor – a stone cellar was dug slightly into the ground to keep cold, but apart from that it was all wood. A sitting room, a basic kitchen and dining room, and a bedroom with a bed wide enough for the two of them.

 “What d’you think?” Tyra watched her sister.

 Ylva nodded. “It’s nice.”

 “We can stay out here. No one’s going to find us.” Tyra squeezed her hand. “We’ll be safe, see?”

 

Ylva woke first, heart racing as she drew in sharp, gasping breaths. _Just a dream, that was all. The monster was–_

The walls were rough wood and unfamiliar. Where was she? Where – what–

 Tyra murmured and shifted, pressing back into her.

 Oh. That was right. Ylva pulled herself free and left the bed, padding out into the lobby.

 Their bags were still by the front door, where they’d left them.

 Ignoring them for the moment, Ylva pulled open the door and stepped out onto the dewy grass

 Something skittered away, and she caught a flash of banded brown fur disappearing over the stream.

 It was quiet, otherwise. No wind.

 Ylva let the door swing shut behind her and wandered around the house, looking again at all the things they hadn’t seen the night before.

 The ground at the back of the house was dug up into rough rows, with the hints of plants growing through.

 Plants. She understood plants. Their mother had grown plants, in their garden back home.

 “Ylva!”

 There was Tyra, at the back door.

 “There’re things growing here.” Ylva looked over.

 Tyra stared at her, panting. Then she sighed, and forced a smile. “You like it here?”

 “It feels safe.” Ylva nodded, walking back to her sister.

 “Let’s stay.” Tyra offered a hand. “I’ll look after you.”

 “I can help.” Ylva took her hand. “Please let me help.”

 Tyra nodded. “We’ll be safe.”

 Safe. Safe was nice.

 

 Tyra found traps in the cellar and set them as best she could around the clearing, remembering the ones their dad had used.

 Together they sorted out what they had brought, attempting a sort of organisation.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Oh hey, they might _actually_ survive. Well how about that.
> 
>  And hey - Happy New Year, guys. Here's to a... slightly less trying one than I've given these two, haha ^^

 Tyra tumbled out of the bed and ran from the dark room, screams choking in her throat. She slammed into the front door and scrabbled it open, bursting into the light of a new day. There she gasped in harsh breaths, staring about her.

 They were safe. There weren’t any vampires out here. Just a…

 Tyra shook her head and stepped forward, and her feet hit something with fading warmth. She looked down and muffled a cry, hand over her mouth.

 A buneary lay there, throat ripped out and fur torn out.

 Tyra stared at it, then out towards the trees. Nothing in sight. Had she startled it – whatever the hunter was – off?

 But then, what would eat on the porch of a house?

 She crouched, examining it. Apart from the throat, it was barely touched. The torn fur seemed to be from being dragged across the ground – looking over again, she could see the trail down from the trees.

 Tyra swallowed and picked it up by the ears. Food was food.

 She took it into the cold room and hacked at it with one of the knives that had been left, trying to remember how her father had done it on the rare occasions she’d seen it happen.

 It was a messy job. She had no real idea how to skin it, and just cut and tugged at it until it tore free.

 There wasn’t much meat, not after the organs spilled out.

 Tyra whirled away and pressed a bloodied hand over her mouth, fighting not to throw up.

 What was left of the blood and other liquids drained down the sloped floor and into a grate-covered hole into the ground.

 She recovered herself and started to pick out the bones, dropping them into a bucket. There were many, and a lot of them were small. It was a time consuming business.

 When she finished, the knife slipped out of her stiff hand and clattered across the stone floor.

 Bits of the meat was still caught on the bones, but most was free and in a different bucket.

 They could boil the bones down. Tyra remembered their mother doing that.

 Standing, she took both buckets and shouldered her way unsteadily out of the room. “Ylva?” She should be up by now.

 “Oh! Tyra, where have–” Ylva turned the corner and saw her sister. She screamed.

 “Ylva, it’s – I’m alright!”  Tyra ducked her head, rubbing her face against her sleeve. “Sorry.”

 “What _happened_?” Ylva took a trembling step forward, staring in horror at her blood-covered sister.

 “It’s not mine.” Tyra put down the buckets. “I found a – um–”

 “Oh. You caught something?” Ylva tilted her head, noticing them.

 “Found it. On the porch.” Tyra picked them up again.

 “Oh. But who – is there someone nearby?” Ylva reached to help her, and they took them into the kitchen.

 “I don’t think so.” Tyra wiped her hands against each other, the dried blood coming off in flakes. “At least – I don’t know.”

 Ylva stared into the buckets. “We’ll need to cook it,” she said softly. “I don’t know how.”

 “We can work it out.” Tyra grinned, teeth stark against her bloodied face. “Right?”

 Ylva closed her eyes, wrinkling her nose. “Go wash up.”

 Tyra laughed and practically skipped from the kitchen.

 She dumped the guts and the ragged skin at the edge of the clearing, on the other side from the stream. “Thank you,” she called into the trees as she backed away. “Thank you.”


	6. Chapter 6

 Ylva crouched in the muck between rows of overgrown plants, attempting to match them with the careful drawings in the book on her lap. She _thought_ it was right, but… oh, it was so hard to tell! And while the handwriting was neat, Ylva didn’t understand many of the words.

 She’d leave the green leaves for now – maybe Tyra would know. They could always pull one up, maybe it was what was underground that was edible. They might know from that.

 When Tyra got back from checking the traps, maybe. Then she’d ask.

 The berries were ripe in the row beside her. Rawst, perhaps? That’s what they looked like.

 Ylva shifted to study them, flipping through the book on her knees.

 There was a rustling in the plants, and a cream-coloured furry face appeared. For a long moment, they stared at each other.

 Then Ylva’s leg seized up and she fell onto her side, the book slipping from her knees and hitting the dirt.

 As Ylva squealed, the pokémon pulled back and ran away.

 “Oh, wait!” Ylva reached out a hand. “Come back?”

 When it didn’t reappear, Ylva pushed herself onto her feet and picked up the book, dusting the dirt from its cover. No harm done to it, or the plants.

 She stood up and – as an afterthought – pulled the rawst berry free before heading back towards the house.

 A furret was sat on the step, staring at her. A dead rattata at its side.

 “Hello,” she whispered, crouching down. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

 It tilted its head, lowering itself to the boards.

 Ylva held out the rawst to it, and stayed still. “Did you leave us the buneary?”

 The furret flicked its tail, eyes fixed on the berry.

 Ylva changed her grip on it, pushing it marginally nearer.

 The furret leapt forward and snagged the berry before darting away and disappearing under the boards of the porch that ringed the house.

 Ylva smiled as she stood, picking the rattata up gingerly by the scruff of its broken neck. “Thank you.”

 

Tyra found Ylva in the kitchen, standing on one of the chairs so she could reach the counters.

 “You’re not covered in blood this time.” Ylva looked down at her.

 “Nothing’s taking the bait!” Tyra scrambled up onto a chair and slumped across the table. “I’m a _rubbish_ trapper.” She frowned, spotting the dead rattata. “Where’d that come from?”

 “It was on the porch,” Ylva replied. “I think there’s a furret leaving us food.”

 “Taken in by wild pokémon.” Tyra giggled. “Like a fairy story.”

 Ylva smiled. “That would be nice.”

 Tyra plucked at the rattata and made a face. “There’s not much meat on it, though... is there any chocolate left?”

 “Not really.”

 Tyra sighed, resting her forehead on her arm. “’M sorry, Ylva. Shouldn’t’ve brought us out here.”

 “Oh!” Ylva jumped down from her chair and dragged it across to the table, climbing up again. “Here, look at this.” She pulled over the book, and one of the plants she’d gone back to dig up. “Do you think this is this?” She pointed to one of the illustrations.

 Tyra lifted her head and peered, looking between them. “It… could be, I guess.”

 “There’s _tonnes_ of them out in the garden. I think we can eat them.”

 Tyra tilted her head. “So… we won’t starve?”

 “No.” Ylva hopped down, taking the plant with her. “We can work it out, right?”

 “I _guess_ …” Tyra wrinkled her nose.

 Ylva smiled. “I can learn about the plans. It’s more fun than school right?”

 Tyra laughed. “If that’s what you want.” She slipped down from her seat, pulling the rattata towards her.

 “What are you going to do?”

 “I’m going to learn to hunt.” Tyra scowled, hand tight on the rattata’s tail. “I’m not living on _vegetables_ forever.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Poor Tyra   
>  Yeah, [Werebudgie](https://werebudgie.deviantart.com) didn't specify but I decided for myself in any case - Tyra has PTSD, which I am... probably doing a terrible job of writing. But hey. It's the way to learn. So feel free to correct me on stuff, 'kay?
> 
>  Moving on.
> 
>  
> 
> that sound ominous...

 Tyra picked out the gun and fought to control her panic. She _would not fail_. It was just – was just –

 She dropped the gun, and it clattered away across the wooden floor.

 Stepping back, she held her trembling hands over her mouth as the tears came, hot and heavy.

 She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t – there wasn’t–

 They were _ten_! Why had she made this choice? Why hadn’t they gone to – to old Ms Ahlgren’s? _She_ would’ve know what to – what to–

 A sob got out, and then they didn’t stop.

 Tyra wailed, her head in the crook of her arm.

 “Tyra!” Ylva came running. “Tyra, what’s wrong?”

 “I’m just – it – I can’t–”

 Ylva saw the gun and winced, then sat beside her sister and hugged her. “It’s alright. We’re safe here, aren’t we?”

 Tyra nodded, swallowing her sobs. “’M sorry. I can’t – can’t do this.”

 “Then don’t. We can manage.”

 “But I want to! I _have_ to – I have to protect you!”

 Ylva closed her eyes. “I don’t need protecting. Not if it’s hurting you.”

 Tyra wiped her nose on her sleeve and hiccupped.

 Ylva leant her head on Tyra’s shoulder. “It’s alright. It’s alright.”

 Tyra huddled into her side, closing her eyes.

 

 She forced herself to, of course. Tyra gritted her teeth and took the gun and the bullets, and set up targets. She practiced doggedly, forcing herself to improve. The targets – and the trees – took a beating.

 Ylva baited fish hooks with rattata meat – the furret continued to leave them offerings – and set them over the river, and soon they had fish, mostly magikarp with the occasional remoraid.

 When Ylva found the furret sleeping on the porch, she coaxed it inside with water and half-burnt meat chunks. Tyra followed it into the forest and learnt where the trails were, and set her traps there. They started to catch pokémon, and their larder was filled with meat.

 The plants became less of a mystery to Ylva, who gave up on the book and tested them, small piece by small piece, until she knew which ones were edible and which ones weren’t.

 The day Tyra bagged a buneary of her own, they ate the last of the chocolate in celebration and sat out on the grass in the last of the sunlight, throwing scraps of meat for the furret that Ylva had named Slink.

 A noctowl flew in and snatched at some of the meat before flying away over the forest. Tyra marked where it went and tracked it, then coaxed it down onto her arm and back to the house to set up nest.

 The girls learnt, they grew, they lived. They forgot about the outside world, the war that raged on.

 Until, of course, it came bursting back in.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  So there has been a time skip now - the girls are... fifteen/sixteen at this point? They lost count. More important things to deal with, I guess.  
>  But hey, now we get down to the _real_ story. ~~It's only taken two months~~

 Tyra propped her feet up on the worn desk, tilting back in her chair as she fiddled with the wooden box. There was no keyhole, and yet it didn’t open. There was definitely something inside, though, she could hear it rattling.

 “Hm.” She flipped it over, catching it deftly. “Open, stupid box.”

 “Tyra?”

 “Yeah?” She twisted over in her chair, letting it thump back onto four legs.

 “I thought you were gone.” Ylva stood in the doorway, pushing her hair back over one shoulder.

 “Not… quite.” Tyra looked up through the window. “’Bout to – hey, see if you can do anything with this.” She tossed her sister the cube, swinging to her feet.

 Ylva fumbled the box and almost dropped it, catching it just in time. Her fingers found a catch, and the box clicked open.

 Bullets spilled out, clattering and rolling across the floor.

 “Huh.”

 “Sorry.” Ylva crouched down to pick them up.

 “Hey, no worries.” Tyra grinned, bending to take one as it rolled into her foot.

 “Did these come from home?”

 “Nah… found ‘em in the armoury.” Tyra jerked her thumb over her shoulder, turning the bullet over. “Wonder what they’re for.”

 They glimmered oddly in the fading daylight that seeped in through the grimy window, and felt lighter than ordinary bullets.

 “Will they fit in your gun?”

 Tyra shrugged and pulled her gun free, spinning open the barrel and emptying the bullets out onto the table. “Let’s see.”

 Ylva set down the box, the rest of the bullets back in it.

 The bullets did fit, not quite as neatly as if they’d been made for the gun, but neatly enough.

 Outside, Owl hooted.

 “Time to go.” Tyra swept her bullets into the pouch at her belt.

 Ylva followed her to the door.

 Slink screamed.

 “Slink?” Tyra slammed open the door, raising her gun.

 The furret was attacking a – it looked _human_.

 “Slink! Leave off.” Tyra lowered her gun. “I’m sorry, he’s not good with–”

 “ _Tyra_.” Ylva tugged at her sleeve, but she already knew.

 Something was off.

 The person slammed Slink to the side and charged at them, looking up to reveal whiter than white skin, black sink holes of eyes. Bared teeth that had grown out to points.

 Ylva shrieked and stumbled back.

 Tyra fired reflexively, gritting her teeth.

 The shot rang out like thunder through the clearing.

 Tyra kept pulling the trigger, empty click after empty click.

 The vampire dropped to the ground and lay still.

 Owl swooped by and hooted at it, circling just out of reach.

 “Is it… dead?” Tyra slowly lowered her gun, knuckles white against her tanned and scarred skin.

 Slink growled and worried at its hand.

 Ylva gulped and whirled back into the house.

 Tyra glanced behind her and stepped forward, off the porch and into the grass that brushed along the topside of her feet and ankles.

 The vampire wasn’t moving at all.

 Tyra kicked at it and jumped back.

 Nothing. “Bullets to kill vampires,” she murmured, looking at her gun. “Well then.” Pushing the gun back into its holder, she hooked her hands under the vampire’s shoulders and tugged it away.

 It left a glistening thick trail of blood through the grass, and Tyra turned her face into her arm, trying not to breathe in the smell.

 It was hard work getting it up the incline but she managed, and rolled it away into the bushes.

 Her hands were stained with it. She wiped them as best she could on leaves and turned to head back to the cabin.

 The trembling of her legs made her topple into a tree beside her, and the shakes set in fully. Now the adrenalin was gone, the threat dealt with, they were safe they were safe they were–

 Gunshots echoed across her memory. Their mother’s screams.

 Tyra huddled into a ball, eyes screwed shut and head resting on her knees.

 She could still feel its weight, pressing her into the cellar floor. The rank smell of blood and gunpoweder, the panic.

 Her necklace, her _fingers_ digging into its eye socket–

 Tyra twisted to the side and threw up.

 They were alive. They were safe. They could survive.

 Tyra rolled onto her knees and crawled away from the corpse. The blood was drying on the grass, dull and rusting.

 There were still stains on her hands, streaked where she’d tried to wipe it off.

 She rubbed them again, scraping her skin on tree bark to get the blood fully off.

 It was fine. She could manage.

 Her palms stung, and she focused on that. She had to manage. Her sister was –

 “Ylva.” Tyra looked up, and got unsteadily to her feet.

 She hurried back to the house, avoiding looking at the flattened and bloodied grass. Her palms were scraped raw, close to bleeding themselves.

 They were alive. They could manage.

 “Ylva?”

 Her sister didn’t reply.

 Slink nosed into the house and padded forward, leading Tyra into the bedroom.

 They found Ylva huddled under the blankets, wrapped around herself.

 “It’s dead,” Tyra said softly, slipping in beside her. “You’re safe.”

 “Really?”

 Tyra wrapped an arm around Ylva. “I promise.”

 Slink licked at her face, and Ylva let out a choked laugh.

 “Sorry, I just – it was–”

 “I know.” Tyra shut her eyes tightly. “I know.”

 Tyra didn’t go out hunting that night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  I said we were getting started, didn't I?  
> 

Tyra had The Nightmare again, and woke with her jaw clenched shut against screams she refused to let out because it would wake Ylva.

 The dim light in their room was enough to roll out of the bed and leave quietly by, and once she was in the corridor she padded outside, closing the door quietly behind her.

 The grass was damp around her feet, as she stepped down and sat on the porch, resting her elbows on her knees and holding her head in her hands.

 It was still just a dream.

 But glories, the war wasn’t. It _had_ happened to them. It was still happening to other people.

 Vampires had never found them before. Maybe it was just a fluke.

 The door clicked open.

 “Will we have to move?”

 “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

 “You didn’t.” Ylva sat down beside her. “I couldn’t sleep either.” She smiled slightly.

 Tyra rubbed her eyes and looked up. “Oh.”

 The sky was clear and blue, promising warmth.

 Slink came bounding through the grass, head held high as he dragged a buneary alongside him.

 Owl landed too, rattata clutched in his talons.

 “Will we have to move?” Ylva carefully took the rattata and separated one out to give to the noctowl, and then another for Slink as he reached them.

 Tyra brought her gaze down to watch them. “No. No, I don’t think it had been near humans in a while. It must have just stumbled upon us.”

 Ylva nodded.

 The sisters sat in silence as the pokémon ate beside them; Owl was quick, swallowing the rattata whole. Slink tore at his, crunching noisily at the bones.

 “Eurgh, Slink!” Ylva laughed, flicking away pieces of fur from the old shirt she wore to sleep in, one of the pieces of clothing they’d found left in the house.

 Tyra smiled, stretching out her fingers. “I think we should eat as well.”

 Ylva nodded and stood, offering her sister her hand. “Back to work, is it?”

 “I suppose.” Tyra took her hand and stood, picking up the dead pokémon. “It never stops.”

 “Maybe it should. Just for a night, don’t you think?”

 Tyra frowned.

 Ylva shrugged and played with the hem of the shirt. “It’s our birthday soon. I think.”

 Tyra laughed. “You don’t know what month it is.”

 “I remember what the leaves looked like,” Ylva retorted. “Besides, we haven’t had one in a while!”

 “Alright.” Tyra shrugged. “Sure. We can have a birthday.”

 Ylva smiled. “We can take a couple of days to get it ready, right?”

 Tyra nodded.

 “It will be the _best_ birthday.” Ylva hopped up the step and pulled open the door. “You’ll see.”

 Tyra grinned as the door swung shut behind her sister. She always knew how to make it better.

 But in the meantime… she had things to skin. Maybe that blanket would be finished soon after all.

 

 Ylva bounced after her sister, carrying a bucked of straight toasting sticks.

 Tyra laughed, dropping more wood beside the unlit fire. “Excited?”

 “Little bit.” Ylva grinned, looking up at the darkening sky. “Ooh, full moon!”

 Tyra glanced up, spotting the faint moon. “So it is.”

 “ _Definitely_ our birthday. I remember the full moon on it.”

 Tyra smiled and knelt down to start the fire, neglecting to mention that the moon was only approaching full, and wouldn’t be there for another six days at least. “You know that changes.”

 “No it doesn’t!” Ylva stuck her tongue out at her sister.

“If you say so.” Tyra flicked the lighter into the scraps of paper and fabric and held it steady as they caught light.

 “I do.”

 Once they were burning, Tyra knelt back and positioned the smaller sticks around them.

 “Oh, wait a sec!” Ylva dropped the sticks to the ground and ran back into the house. “I’ll be right back!”

 Tyra grinned and stood up, stretching her legs out. “Slink, get out of that.”

 The furret pulled back from the covered plate, looking up.

 “Later.” Tyra shook her head. “I thought you’d already eaten, anyhow.”

 Slink washed his face, ignoring her.

 “Sure.” Tyra laughed and turned. “Hey, Ylva? What’s taking so–”

 Her sister screamed.

 Tyra ran, grabbing the gun from its holder at her side. “Ylva!” She could hear growling, snarling. She ran faster, Slink at her side.

 They rounded the house, and –

 “Oh _god_.” Tyra fired reflexively at the monster attacking her sister.

 It was big, black furred, and had Ylva trapped on the ground below it.

 Ylva was still screaming.

 “Get off her!”

 The bullets hit, and the monster took notice then, opening its maw to roar at her – dropping Ylva, who slumped to the ground holding tight to her arm, screams descending into gasping sobs.

 Tyra fired again and again, until her gun ran out of bullets.

 The monster charged when it heard the clicking of an empty barrel.

 “Yeah?” Tyra threw the gun to the side and drew her knife, running to meet it. “ _Nothing_ harms my sister!”

 Owl swooped in, raked claws across the top of its head and ripping its ear.

 That was enough to distract it, enough to let Tyra in past its gleaming claws and stab up into its throat.

 It didn’t quite halt, and they crashed over, the beast landing on the ground below Tyra.

 She pulled out of the way as it flailed, one hand pushing its jaws back as she worked the knife further into its neck, yanking it from side to side.

 Eventually, it stopped moving.

 Tyra’s arms were trembling from the effort as she pulled her knife free, panting.

 Slick worried at its ear, snarling.

 Ylva gasped, crying.

 “Ylva.” Tyra climbed off the body and stumbled towards her sister, dropping the knife. “Ylva, are you–” Stupid question. She tore off her rough hide jacket and knelt at Ylva’s side.

 Ylva was holding tight to her right arm, blood pulsing around her fingers.

 Tyra saw the torn flesh – almost down to the bone – and gulped. “Here.” She inched Ylva’s fingers to the side and wrapped her jacket around it instead. “Hold that. I – I’ll get–”

 Ylva blinked rapidly, pupils dilating and breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

 “We’ll need – _shit_.” Tyra brushed a hand against Ylva’s arm. “You’re burning up. No – Ylva, stay with me!” She kept pressure on the jacket. “Hold – hold this.” She guided Ylva’s hand back over it and shuffled back. “I’ll be quick.”

 Tyra raced into the house and for the shelf where they kept all their medical supplies. She grabbed everything in one swoop and ran back, dropping things along the way.

 “Wait.” Ylva sat up, frowning.

 “No – don’t–”

 Ylva pulled the bloodied jacket away carefully. Underneath, her arm was smeared in blood, but there was no wound.

 “What?” Tyra flicked glances between Ylva’s arm and her eyes. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

 “What’s happening?” Ylva asked quietly. “I don’t – this isn’t…”

 “Whatever it is,” Tyra replied in the same tone, sitting down beside her sister, “It saved your life, I think.”

 “What if it makes it worse?”

“Then we’ll find a way to deal with it.” Tyra glanced at the beast lying dead beside them. “But… I think we need to move.”

 Ylva closed her eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

 “What? It’s not your fault those things found us.” Tyra frowned. “Don’t be stupid… if anything, it was probably me. I mean, I tramp around a lot more than you.”

 Ylva glanced down at her arm again.

 “Hey.” Tyra nudged her. “Go get washed up. I’ll start cooking things, alright?”

 Ylva nodded and got to her feet, a little unsteadily.

 Tyra stood and stepped back, watching her sister until she got inside the house, Slink following her. Then she turned to pick up her knife – wiping it against the beast’s fur – and find her gun. “You’d better have been alone,” she muttered at it, walking past it and round the house.

 

 They packed their life into five bags of various sizes.

 Ylva took seedlings and shoots from the plants, determined to grow them again.

 Tyra took as many of the weapons as she could fit into one bag, and then any that would fit down the sides of others.

 They cleaned out the kitchen, the clothes that had been left there – clothes for an adult male, still too big for them but thick and waterproof – and the blankets, alongside what they’d made with the skins from hunting.

 Tyra packed up her traps and the fishing lines, then set about working out which way to go to find a new place. She would build it herself if she had to.

 They left behind an empty cabin and walked away from another part of their lives, heading onwards.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  So... something's up with Ylva.  
>  That's not so good.
> 
>  But obviously falling asleep by the river is the _best decision ever_

They found another cabin, further into the woods. It took them two and a half days of near steady walking, but by late afternoon of the fourth day after deciding to leave, they were there.

 Ylva dropped her bags just inside the door and stalked through the corridor, ripping open one of the bags of dried meat they’d brought.

 “Are… you alright?” Tyra frowned, having jumped back from the door as Ylva shouldered past.

 “Yeah.” Ylva brushed her off. “I just – yeah.”

 Hm. Tyra glanced at Slink and shrugged, following her sister inside.

 Owl called out from the roof, getting comfortable.

 Tyra pulled the rest of their bags inside and jammed the door shut with the heavy stand she found behind it. “I reckon we can leave the proper unpacking until tomorrow, right?”

 “Whatever.” Ylva shrugged, chewing on the meat. “I’m not really tired, so…”

 “Nah, I’m more hungry than tired,” Tyra agreed, sorting through the bags to find the one with their food stuffs in it. “Probably need to turn over the bed.”

 “Assuming there _is_ one.” She rubbed at her arm – the one that had been bitten – and dropped the bag of meat onto the table in what Tyra assumed was the kitchen.

 “We have enough blankets and stuff to get by in the meantime.” Tyra frowned, starting to put away things. “How about you go looking for it?”

 Ylva stared at her. “Fine,” she said abruptly, and strode from the room.

 “What is up there?” Tyra murmured, pulling open a door and finding the cold cellar.

 Maybe the bite wasn’t completely… healed. It might look like it had, but… Tyra wasn’t so sure.

 Nothing healed that quickly, not in her experience.

 She put away the rest of their food – cans on the shelves, just about everything else in the cold cellar, plants on the ledge by the window – and tossed the empty bag onto the table.

 The light faded more quickly here, there wasn’t quite as big a clearing around this cabin. And the windows were _small._

 Slink capered about her feet as she left the kitchen, narrowly avoiding being trodden on with every step.

 “Ylva?”

 “There’s a _couch_.” She didn’t sound pleased.

 Tyra pushed open the door and found her sister sitting hunched over and tense in the very corner of a sunken couch. “How soft is it?”

 “Broken,” Ylva replied. “But it’ll have to do.”

 Slink clawed at Tyra’s bare feet and darted back into the dim corridor.

 “Hold that thought.” Tyra turned to follow the furret.

 He led her to a door they’d walked past already, half hidden in the shadows.

 Tyra pushed at it, and it creaked open on a cosy looking room – plush carpets, thick furs on the walls, and best of all a wide bed piled with blankets and cured skins. “Slink’s found something better!” She left the door propped open and went to pick up the bags of their clothes and blankets.

 When she returned, Ylva was curled around a pillow, biting at another one.

 “Are you sure you’re ok?”

 Ylva shrugged half-heartedly. “I don’t know. Sorry.”

 Tyra dropped the bags to the side. “It’s fine.” She peeled off her jacket – it was getting tight again, she’d outgrown it – and slung it on a hook. “Rest up, if you like. I’ll sort out something to eat?”

 “Not hungry.” Ylva buried her head. “Just – I don’t know.”

 “I’ll… leave you to it, then.” Tyra stepped back, pulling the door to behind her.

 Something was _definitely_ up with Ylva.

 Rather than going to the kitchen, Tyra set about exploring the rest of the dim cabin.

 There was the kitchen and the cold room, of course. The bedroom. She found a trapdoor down into the cellar, filled with traps and old hunting equipment – there were even _bows_ down there, of all kinds.

 “Weird.” She laughed, running a hand over one. Something else to occupy her time with.

 The sitting room had a bookshelf in it, and she added the book of plants they’d taken from the other cabin to it as she painstakingly spelled out the names on the covers.

  _Monsters of the World_ sounded more like a set of folk tales than anything she’d expected to find out here. Everyone had their interests, she supposed.

 Tyra took that book from the shelf and set it down by the couch, crouching to light the set fire – it looked like it had been set for a _long_ time. The original owner hadn’t been back to this cabin any time recently.

 Once there was enough light to read comfortably by, Tyra shuffled back to where she could pick up the book and lean against the edge of the couch.

 It… wasn’t _entirely_ a book of folk tales.

 Tyra struggled through the words on the first page. Some sort of analysis of folk tales and creatures. The text was hard to read, with too many words she barely recognised. Then she turned the page and it only got worse, because a previous owner had written in the margins and along any piece of blank space there had been.

 “Eurgh…” She closed the book and leant her head back until it was almost uncomfortable.

 Ylva was right, this couch _was_ broken.

 Tyra straightened up and shifted to sit actually on the couch, sinking into it. Well. They could only see how it worked out.

 

Tyra hadn’t made any headway with the book by the time morning came round.

 Ylva found her draped over the couch, book fallen to the floor at her side. “You know, the bed _is_ actually fairly comfortable.” She prodded her sister.

 “Hm?” Tyra lifted her head. “Oh – well, so is this. Sorta.” She swung upright, wincing as her muscles protested.

 “Sure.” Ylva rolled her eyes. “I’ll be out back.” She swung from the room.

 Tyra placed the book back on the shelf and followed her sister through to the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”

 Ylva shrugged. “Alright.”

 Tyra reached up to pull a leppa from the shelf and boosted herself to sit on the table. “Sure. What’s your plan, then?”

 “Deal with them.” Ylva swung the knife in her hands to point at the plants arrayed along the window ledge.

 “Want help with that?” Tyra bit into the fruit, sucking at the juices as they leaked out.

 “No.”

 Tyra blinked at the snapped answer. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll be out in the woods.”

 “Find water, would you? There isn’t a stream outside.”

 “No, that would be convenient.” Tyra smiled.

 “Yes, it would.” Ylva stabbed the knife through the nomel in her hand and hissed as she caught her finger with it. “ _Very_.”

 “Are you–” Tyra started forward.

 “I’m fine!” She waved Tyra off, sucking at her finger. “You don’t need to _mollycoddle_ me.”

 “Ok, I won’t.” Tyra raised her hands, leaning back.

 Ylva glanced at her. “Good.”

 

 Tyra left Ylva hacking at the ground behind the cabin – there wasn’t even the _beginnings_ of a vegetable patch at this one – and went into the forest with her traps, trusting Slink to show her where best to place them. Following the trails led her to a fast flowing stream, which she set with hooks to bring in fish, if there were any. Maybe this was where their last stream had come from.

 With that done, Tyra sat back against a tree and warmed her toes in the weak sunlight. She would see if the fish were actually biting before heading back.

 “What’s up with Ylva, Slink?” She stroked the furret as he came to curl up in her lap. “Having to move, maybe? The attack?”

 The attack would probably cover it.

 She couldn’t blame her, really. That would leave anyone shaken.

 Tyra yawned, shifting to a more comfortable position. She really hadn’t got much sleep… and the sun _was_ quite nice on her feet, especially since there was no wind.

 She slowly slipped into sleep, her hand stilling on Slink’s back.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Well. That's not so good.

Tyra started awake when Slink nipped at her fingers. “Shit!”

 It was growing dark.

 Moving quickly, she filled the gut skin pouches with water and placed them back into her bag. No fish on the lines yet, but she’d leave them there anyway. It was too late to bother moving them.

 Slink stood alert, flicking his head from side to side every so often.

 “Lead the way.” She wouldn’t be able to find the way back on her own, not in a darkened forest.

 Slink took off, bounding through the trees.

 Tyra ran after him, ducking branches that slapped her shoulders and tugged at her hair, getting caught on tangles. She gritted her teeth and tore free, smoothing her hair out of the way as best she could. Definitely time to get Ylva to cut it again.

 A trap almost snapped shut on her leg – she yanked it out of the way just in time.

 Hells.

 “Slink! Slow down.” She rested an arm against a tree, shaking. “I can’t – see.”

 A howl split the night, angry and monstrous.

 What was _that_?

 Tyra’s hand dropped to her gun, strapped to her side as always.

 Slink came back to her side, pressing into her ankles; she could feel his heat and panting breaths.

 “Slowly now,” she whispered. “Let’s not attract it.”

 It didn’t sound like it was near them, but even so…

 Tyra stepped carefully, quietly.

 Slink stuck close to her feet, moving in stiff little steps.

 When they got back to the cabin, they were both stiff and cold, and it was fully dark.

 The house was dark, too. No glimmer of light. The front door was still jammed shut – of course, they’d both used the back door to leave.

 Tyra slipped around the side of the house and stopped short.

 The patch where Ylva had been working was still in disarray – loose dirt piled up on one side, plants half in the ground.

 A huge paw print was indented in the loose muck, bigger than anything Tyra had seen in the forest. Almost as big as –

 “Oh, no.”

 It was pointing away from the house.

 The back door was hanging open, not quite crooked.

 Tyra ran, stumbling over the step. “Ylva?”

 The house was quiet. The kitchen was at odds with itself, bowls and pots lying scattered across the table, counters, and floor. There were scraps of material, scraps too dark to be anything but cured skins. Maybe just a… towel or something. Perhaps Ylva had started on some cleaning.

 Tyra pulled out her gun and made her way to the bedroom. Please let Ylva just be sleeping, please…

 The door swung open when she pushed it with her left hand, gun held ready in her right.

 The bed was a mound of blankets and pillows. It almost looked like there was a person under them all.

 She pulled them all onto the floor, already knowing the answer. “Where are you?” she whispered, stepping back from the empty bed. “Ylva…” Turning, she left the bedroom and went back to the kitchen.

 Slink had his nose to the ground, hackles raised as he circled.

 “What is it?”

 He growled, looking up.

 “Find her.” Tyra stepped towards the back door.

 Slink darted out before her, and she pulled the door shut behind them.

 Owl swooped in, and she raised her covered left arm for him to land on.

 “We’re going hunting,” she said to him. “Care to join?”

 He hooted, folding his wings.

 Slink led them around the dug up patch of ground and into the forest.

 

 They hadn’t found Ylva by sunrise.

 Tyra fought back a yawn and trudged on after Slink, barely able to focus on her surroundings.

 Owl landed on a branch and ruffled his feathers, hooting down at them.

 Slink stopped and looked up, and Tyra almost stumbled over him.

 “Damn it!” She steadied herself against a nearby tree. “Ylva! Please, answer me!”

 The call sank into the forest around her, and its busy life went on.

 Tyra leant back against the tree and slid down to sit, holding her head in her hands. “Please…”  _Don’t let me be alone_. _Don’t let me have failed you_.

 Slink scurried back to her side and whined, leaning against her.

 She didn’t even know where they were anymore. Or how to get back. “I messed up,” she groaned.

 Maybe Ylva had got back to the cabin. There was no use in continuing to search… that clearly wasn’t working, not the way she was going about it.

 Tyra pushed herself to her feet, yawning again. “Lead me back, Slink.”

 Slink trailed in front of her, tail sweeping against the ground as he walked on.

 Owl glided through the trees to their left, doing just enough to keep moving.

 Of course Ylva hadn’t returned to the cabin.

 Tyra raided their supplies of food – the meat was beginning to run out, she would have to check the traps soon – and dragged blankets out to the back. If Ylva came back, she would be waiting for her.

  _When_. When Ylva came back. She was going to, she had to.

 Tyra couldn’t do this alone.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Well. That's interesting.

 A few of the traps were hopelessly broken, twisted out of shape. Tyra picked them up, examining the ragged edges of the metal. Was that blood on them?

 Her and her _stupid_ traps! No wonder the monsters kept finding them, if she didn’t clear out the traps fast enough.

 “I am an _idiot_. It’s all my fault.” Tyra flicked it back towards the clearing and continued her route to check all the others.

 Once she’d picked up the catch – two plump buneary, one rattata – she turned for the stream. She hadn’t had a chance to check the fishing lines since she’d set them. They’d probably be picked clean by this point.

 Ylva still hadn’t come back. It was two days since she’d disappeared.

 Slink and Owl were both gone for long periods of time, and Tyra could only hope that they were still looking for Ylva, because she hadn’t had much time for it.

 Though the temptation to just drop everything was high. So high.

 She found the river sooner than she expected, following the sound of it to a wider part. Tyra stepped out of the trees and glanced downriver, frowning. Were the lines that way…?

 Something rustled on the other side.

 Tyra whipped her head back to focus, hand on her gun.

 Growling, low and threatening, had the hairs on her arms prickling. No other pokémon was making any sound. There was just the wind and the river.

 She pulled her gun out and held it steady, scanning the opposite bank.

 A giant… a giant beast stepped out. Black furred, taller than her by at least a head – Tyra brought the gun to bear on the centre of its head.

 Its teeth gleamed as it opened its mouth in a snarl.

 Tyra tightened her grip, using both hands.

 Neither of them moved.

 Tyra’s finger was stiff on the trigger, but she didn’t pull. It had taken more than one bullet to take down the last one, and she’d _surprised_ it.

 But this one wasn’t attacking. It was just… watching her.

 No. It was looking for an opening.

 “You won’t get me so easily,” she murmured. “Just _try_ it. I’ve killed one of you before.”

 The wind blew down the river, flicking her hair.

 She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, staring each other down. Her arms trembled, and she forced them to stay still.

 The beast hesitated, raised a paw as if to take a step forward.

 Then it turned and ran, disappearing between the trees.

 Tyra stared after it, slowly lowering her gun. What… just happened?


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ylva's back. Totally alright and all that. _Totally_

 The door creaked open.

 Tyra woke, tensing. Her hand curling around the gun by the couch.

 That had been the front door, but… who could it be?

 What could it be?

 Footsteps, stumbling. Light, but dragging.

 Tyra slowly shifted to sit up, looking towards the door of the sitting room. She had the element of surprise for the moment. Probably.

 “Tyra?”

 No _way_.

 Tyra launched herself off the couch and yanked open the door, slamming into the wall beside it as she didn’t stop fast enough. “Ylva.” The gun dropped from her hand and went clattering away across the floor.

 Her sister stood, framed in late morning sunlight, squinting into the darkness of the cabin and leaning on the wall.

 “What happened?” Tyra glanced her over, trying not to stare too much. “Where are your clothes?”

 “I – I don’t know.” Ylva glanced down at herself and wrapped her free arm over her midriff. “I don’t really remember…”

 Tyra pulled Ylva into the sitting room and pushed her towards the couch. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

 “I’m… not really hungry.”

 Tyra glanced back at her, hand on the door. “Something to drink, then?”

 Ylva nodded, drawing the blanket around her shoulders. “Mouth tastes _foul_.”

 Tyra smiled and darted away. Her sister was alive! She _hadn’t_ failed – at least, not entirely. There was still the question of her clothes – and what had been happening over the past three days – but–

 But Ylva was _alive_. She wasn’t alone.

 Tyra filled a cup with water and turned to leave the kitchen. She caught sight of the canned food on the shelves – carefully hoarded from home, for special occasions – and chewed at her lip. Then she nodded decisively and set the cup back down.

 “What are you doing?” Ylva walked into the kitchen, the blanket still draped over her shoulders.

 “There’s your water.” Tyra pointed to it, setting the biggest pan they had over the stove.

 “Tyra, that’s – those are for special occasions!” Ylva saw the two cans standing open on the table, the lids cut raggedly off.

 “Isn’t this one?” Tyra glanced back at her, smiling. “You’re unhurt, and back here.”

 Ylva smiled and sat down at the table, pressing the cup to her forehead. “Alive, anyway.”

 “I… never did ask.” Tyra bit her lip.

 “Killer headache,” Ylva replied. “And I’m just… generally sore. Oh!” She pushed back, looking down between her legs. “Slink!”

 The furret raised himself up, paws on her bare legs.

 Ylva laughed and bent to lift him up, turning her face away as he licked her.

 “I think he prefers you to me,” Tyra said, emptying the contents of the tins into the pan to heat up.

 “You make him work.” Ylva pushed Slink away one last time and caught the blanket up before it slipped any further.

 Tyra ran between the kitchen and the cold store, pulling out the last bit of uncured meat that they had. “Do you… remember what happened?” She chopped it up and set it in another pan to cook, flicking glances at her sister.

 “I was… out in the garden?” Ylva frowned. “No. I’d come inside. I–” She stretched out her free hand, staring at it. “I _changed_.”

 “What do you mean?” Tyra chewed over a berry for something to do, pulling her feet up beside her on the couch.

 “I mean… I don’t think I was human. I don’t remember anything.” Ylva set the cup down. “Well… I remember one thing. I think. Maybe it was just… I don’t know.”

 “What is it?” Tyra offered her the basket.

 Ylva started to shake her head, then picked up a pecha. “I was at the river. Stream. It’s in the woods… that sort of way?” She pointed vaguely at the wall with the door.

 Tyra narrowed her eyes and tried to match her memory. “That… seems about right, yeah.”

 “Doesn’t really matter.” Ylva shrugged. “I… saw someone. A hunter.”

 Tyra frowned, but kept silent.

 “On the other side from me. Pointed a gun at my head. Didn’t… didn’t shoot. Smelt familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Everything smelt so _strong_.” Ylva rubbed her head. “And the sounds, like you wouldn’t believe…”

 “When was this? Do you think we’ll have to move?”

 “We only just got here.” Ylva shook her head, closing her eyes. “Please, let’s just… stay for a… bit…” She yawned.

 Tyra nodded. “The hunter might not come this way. We should be safe.”

 “I… knew them.” Ylva’s head drooped and she shifted to lean on the arm of the couch. “Smelt familiar.”

 Tyra watched her sister, and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder as she fell asleep.

 The river… it couldn’t be.

 Just a coincidence. Ylva had said herself, she didn’t remember anything. Why would it match up with what _she’d_ experienced?

 Tyra frowned and leant forward to set the basket on the table before reaching to pick up the book again. There had been something…

 She flicked through several chapters, scanning past the pages until she found the one she wanted. There was a sketchy, impressionistic drawing printed there. A black beast with sharp fangs and glowing eyes.

 The first time she’d seen it, she’d recognised the beast she’d killed. Hard to mistake it for anything else. She’d been too tired to attempt the text then, but now…

 It talked – she thought – about something called “wolf blessed”. Shape changers that hunted demons. Then… something happened, and they lost their humanity, became cursed. They couldn’t control the change, and became something different. Werewolves.

 Tyra struggled on, but it devolved into a tale about a girl visiting her grandmother, who lived at the old shrine of Celebi – whatever that was.

 The notes around the edges of the pages seemed to be about how to kill them, how to recognise them. She turned the page, and a scrawled note directing her to another book.

 Tyra closed the book and padded over to the shelves, reading slowly through the titles. She assumed the book would be there, anyway, though why the writer would make a note to a book they didn’t have she wasn’t sure.

 She couldn’t see it first off, then realised that they meant a notebook, which she found on the desk below the shelves.

 It was filled with more of the close writing, but at least it wasn’t trying to fit around printed text.

 She leant against the desk and opened it up.

 Hunting tips, snares – diagrams, the lot.

 “This could have been so useful…” it would still be useful. She skipped forward pages until she saw _Werewolves_ written across the top of a page in block capitals.

 More detailed information about recognising them. Mostly she got that staying away was a good idea, since they hunted humans.

 They only appeared at nightfall the day before the full moon, and then disappeared again with the dawn a night after the full moon.

 Tyra looked up. Glanced back at Ylva, asleep on the couch and curled around Slink.

 Putting down the book, she left the room and walked out into the limp grass.

 Ylva’s dragging trail was clear, leading down from the trees.

 It was too late in the morning to still catch sight of the moon.

 But – she thought back – it had been six days to full when the… beast had attacked. Four days saw them to here. Ylva disappeared the day after that, which would have been… the night before the full moon.

 “Shit.” Tyra glanced back at the house. “Shit.”

 Her sister was a werewolf.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  We have passed the half way point!  
>  And look, they're doing _just fine_. No problems whatsoever.  
> 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ylva shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

 Tyra glanced down at the book in her hands. “But–”

 “It wasn’t the full moon when I – when I was attacked.” Ylva hacked at the ground. “Was it?”

 “Well – no…” Tyra chewed her lip.

 “Well then. Pass me that plant there.” Ylva sat back on her heels and gestured at the shoot by Tyra’s foot.

 Tyra stretched over to pass it to her, keeping the book out of the way. “How would you explain it, then?”

 Ylva sighed and cut the sacking away from around the roots. “I don’t know.”

 “Then–”

 “Can we not let it lie?” Ylva didn’t take her eyes off the task at hand. “I – don’t _want_ to be a…”

 “Sorry.” Tyra pushed the book away and moved to her sister’s side. “I’m just… worried.” She wrapped an arm around Ylva’s shoulders.

 Ylva leant her head against Tyra. “I know.”

 “I don’t want to lose you again,” Tyra whispered.

 Ylva turned the plant over in her hands and then set it down so she could fold her near arm around her sister. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 “Good.”

 “You, however…” Ylva nudged her.

 “I know.” Tyra smiled and pulled out of the half-hug, steadying herself before she fell into the churned up ground. “Traps to check.”

 “Water to get.” Ylva glanced up. “That’s going to be annoying.”

 “We can make it work.” Tyra shrugged, brushing her hand off against her trousers. “We’ll think of something.” She bent to pick up the book.

 “Course you will. Hey – leave the book, will you?”

 Tyra glanced down at it and to her sister. “Alright.” She put it back down on the walkway, further back from the edge.

 “Thanks.” Ylva turned back to her plants.

 “I won’t be long.” Tyra stepped back into the cabin to pick up her gear.

 Time to try out some of the new – to her, anyway – weapons.

 She grinned, slung the game bag over her shoulder, and picked up the one she’d chosen for today – the crossbow. “Come on, Slink.” She strapped the holder of bolts around her waist.

 The furret pricked up his ears and bounded outside after her.

 “Have fun.” Ylva glanced up, marked the crossbow, and smiled.

 “Will do.” Tyra nodded and strode into the forest.

 

 Ylva threw herself into looking after the plants. They took slowly to the new patch and began to grow again, not too badly affected by their stint out of the ground.

 Together they filled barrels with water and kept them in the cool room, or by the plant patch for when the rain didn’t come.

 Tyra watched quietly, finding excuses to stay close to the cabin and her sister – practising with her new weapons, mostly. The crossbow was easy enough to master, though loading was trickier to understand.

 The recurve bow – she had found a sheaf of papers that gave some brief information about all the weapons – was stiff and hard to draw at first, maybe because it hadn’t been used recently, but she worked at it and soon could draw it easily.

 She liked the compound bow best, from its compact design to its draw.

 As the days past and Ylva seemed no more changed from before, Tyra started to range out on longer hunts, taking the compound bow with her alongside her gun and knives. She used it to shoot down her prey rather than wasting bullets and started to bring more back, since the sound didn’t carry or startle pokémon so easily.

 Over the course of the month, they worked to make this new cabin a home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Well.  
>  That happened.

 Tyra sat out in the last of the sunlight, a cup of water steaming gently beside her as she cleaned her knives.

 “Here.” Ylva put a plate down beside Tyra with more force than was really necessary.

 “Thanks.” Tyra looked up, putting her knives to the side. “Are you not having any?”

 “I’m… not hungry.” Ylva shook her head and stepped down onto the grass. “I’m just going to go for a walk first.”

 “Want company?”

 “You eat. Just need to clear my head.” Ylva bunched her hands into roughly cut pockets and walked on.

 “Sure. Ok.” Tyra nodded. “Don’t go too far.”

 “I _know_.” Ylva rolled her eyes. “I live out here too, you know.”

 Tyra frowned and looked up past the ledge of the roof to the darkening sky. The sun had almost set, but that just made the visibility in the forest worse.

 She was probably worrying needlessly. There weren’t any predators around here, not that she’d seen marks of. Just–

 Oh, _hell._

 “Ylva–” Tyra stood up, as if to follow her.

 “What?” Ylva whirled to face her. “You don’t need to–” She broke off in a scream.

 Tyra started towards her. “Ylva!” She could almost _hear_ her bones breaking.

 Ylva doubled over, hitting the ground as she clutched at her stomach. Her clothes stretched over widening shoulders and then split apart to reveal thick black fur that grew everywhere, covering her.

 Her limbs moved position, legs shortening and arms growing longer.

 Ylva pushed herself up onto all fours and looked up to meet Tyra’s eyes, her own wide with panic.

 Tyra stepped back, hands fluttering at her side. She saw Ylva’s eyes flood with dark colour and shift to the sides as her mouth forced itself out into a muzzle.

 The wolf shook itself and threw back its head in a howl.

 Tyra stumbled and fell to the ground, mouth open in a scream that wouldn’t come as she gasped for breath.

 The wolf growled and padded forwards.

 Tyra couldn’t control her breathing and reflexively heaved, tasting bile.

 The wolf was – her sister was–

 It bared its teeth.

 Tyra closed her eyes and pushed herself to the side, rolling onto her hands and knees and stumbling upright onto feet that were tingling as though numb.

 The wolf whined.

 Tyra drew her gun and tried to hold it steady, but her hands were shaking and she couldn’t focus. “Stay back,” she managed to choke out. “ _Please_.”

 Where was it? She couldn’t see in this darkness, not anymore.

 She was dead, the wolf would kill her, she was dead she was dead she was –

 A rush of heat.

 Panting, close by.

 Starlight reflected from the wolf’s eyes, directly in front of her.

 “Ylva?”

 It closed its eyes and flattened its ears.

 Tyra dropped her gun, holding shaking hands to her mouth.

 The wolf burst into movement, past her and up into the forest.

 Tyra fell again, knocked over by it. She lay in the cool grass, fighting to control her breathing.

 She was still alive. _She was still alive_.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  There's a lot of blood in this one 

Morning found Tyra still curled in the now damp grass. She woke slowly to Slink nudging insistently at her face.

 “Alright…” She sat up slowly, looking around.

 Owl was perched on the roof, watching them.

 Slink sat back, looking up.

 Ylva was nowhere in sight.

 “We have to find her.”

 The wolf hadn’t attacked her… that meant Ylva was still in there, somewhere.

 Tyra stood, trying to ignore the ringing memory of her sister’s screams.

 Slink darted towards the treeline.

 “In a moment, Slink. Just… let me get a few things, first.” Tyra limped towards the house on stiff legs, forcing herself to keep moving.

 Her foot hit her gun and she jerked away from it. _How_ had she even _considered_ shooting her sister? Ylva was… she would rather die.

 She almost _had_.

 What a mess.

 Tyra picked up her favourite of the compound bows and strapped the quiver around her waist, wrapping a game bag around the tops of the arrows.

 Slink was running circles in the torn up grass, nose to the ground. As Tyra appeared again, he looked up and ran towards the tree line.

 Tyra nodded and pulled the door shut behind her. “Stay here, Owl.” She looked up at him.

 The noctowl blinked slowly.

 Tyra managed a small smile and strode into the forest after Slink.

 At first the trail was easy to follow; Ylva had ripped past bushes, torn up the ground, bruised bark and snapped branches from the trees.

 Then – conversely, as the forest got denser – the obvious trail disappeared.

 Tyra slowed, clutching the bow tighter.

 Slink kept going, nose to the ground.

 She followed him, eyes flickering constantly.

 Soon she could smell the rank metallic stench of spilled blood. Tyra pulled an arrow carefully from the quiver, holding it to the string with her right hand. It wasn’t fresh, but…

 Slink doubled back on himself and darted behind Tyra.

 Tyra stepped forward slowly, and came upon a small gap in the trees. She turned away, pressing her nose into her arm and struggling to control her gag reflex.

 A stantler lay there, throat and stomach ripped open. Blood was spattered across the trees, every plant in range. It was barely touched.

 Tyra gulped and skated her gaze across its sightless eyes, trying not to take too much in. What would do this?

 Slink whined, and she turned to see him shoot up a tree.

 Then she heard the heavy panting.

 Tyra gripped her bow, beginning to raise it.

 A giant wolf padded into the clearing to her side, focused on the dead stantler.

 Tyra took a step back, not taking her eyes off it. She knew it could be Ylva, but…

 The arrow in her hand clacked against the bow. Tyra stopped still.

 The wolf swung to stare at her.

 “Please be Ylva,” she whispered. “Oh _please_.”

 When it didn’t instantly attack, she lowered the bow and relaxed the half-drawn string.

 “Ylva?”

 The wolf bared its teeth, ears flattening.

 Tyra took a quick step back, as if that would help her when it decided to attack.

 It lowered its head to the stantler, eyes still on her.

 “I’m not going to take your kill,” she whispered. “I’m just… looking for–”

 The wolf snapped its jaws around the stantler’s neck and heaved, flinging it to rest at Tyra’s feet.

 Tyra jumped back, arrow clacking against the bow again. She pulled it off, putting it back into the quiver.

 The wolf let go of the stantler and looked up at her, ears lowered in a less threatening way.

 “That… that is Ylva. Right?”

 The wolf nodded, pushing the stantler at her with a paw.

 Tyra crouched down, putting the bow to one side. “You… caught this for me?”

 She nodded again.

 Tyra shook her head, drawing her knife. “Well… thank you.”

 Ylva leapt away with a growl.

 “Wait – it’s alright!” Tyra looked up, then at the knife in her hand. “I’m not going to hurt you!”

 But Ylva had already disappeared into the forest, leaving only branches bobbing in her wake.

 Tyra stared after her, and then down at the stantler. This was bigger than anything she’d managed to take down… mostly she caught the scrawny, old, sick stantler that didn’t have much meat left to them. This one was plump and young.

 It would feed them for _ages_.

 She set about skinning it and cutting it into chunks.

 Slink slowly came down from his hiding place, and Tyra tossed him the guts to play with.

 “Coward.”

 He bared sharp teeth at her and worried at the guts, pulling them all over the place as she worked.

 They could make this work. They could _really_ make this work.

 Tyra smiled. Everything would be fine again. 

 

Their cold room was stacked with meat over the next two days.

 Tyra didn’t actually see Ylva dropping off her kills, but dead stantler were dropped in the clearing each day at dawn and dusk. She was kept busy skinning and storing them, and didn’t have much time to hunt herself – not that it was needed.

 At dawn on the second day after the full moon, Tyra woke and moved quickly, getting herself ready and then gathering clothes up into a bag – not her game bag – to take into the forest.

 “Come on, Slink,” she called, stopping in the kitchen to pick up a leppa. “Time to go find Ylva.”

 Slink pattered around her feet as she made her way to the door, and darted outside the instant it was open wide enough for him.

 Tyra grinned and closed the door behind them. “How close will she be?”

 Slink ran circles and then darted up to the trees, running back and forth along them.

 Of course, Ylva had probably been up and down a _lot_ recently, so this could be difficult.

 “Back to the first place we saw her,” Tyra called out, striding up towards the trees. “We’ll check the traps along the way.” Not that they needed it in the slightest.

 The forest was quiet, half of it still going to sleep and the other half only just waking up.

 Tyra saw sentret scurrying across tree branches and back into nests. Pidgey hopped out along branches and fluttered into the air, shaking dew from the branches. Tyra ducked her head and laughed, running a hand through her hair to shake the water out.

 “Tyra.” Ylva looked out from behind a tree, voice hoarse and low.

 “Hey.” Tyra grinned and swung the bag from her shoulder, handing it over. “How’re you doing?”

 “Is… is there something to drink in there?” Ylva reached out a bare arm to take it.

 “I… did not think that far.” Tyra winced. “Sorry.”

 Ylva disappeared behind the trees again, and Tyra heard shuffling as she got dressed. “I’ll manage. How… far are we from the cabin?”

 “Not really.” Tyra shook her head. “You must have been coming back.”

 “Hm.” Ylva slipped around the tree, holding the empty bag out.

 Tyra took the bag back and folded it under her arm.

 “So…” Ylva knotted her fingers together. “I…”

 “You are a werewolf,” Tyra said quietly. “But–”

 Ylva winced and looked away. “I could’ve killed you.”

 “You didn’t.”

 “It’s not safe for you.” Ylva frowned. “I should just… leave.”

 “No.” Tyra reached to catch her hand. “That’s not happening.”

 “But – I’ll snap at some point. If I don’t remember what I’m doing…”

 “Ylva.” Tyra tugged her sister to face her. “I found you, in the forest. You didn’t kill me. You could have, but you didn’t. _Three times_.”

 “That… could be just a fluke. You can’t trust that.”

 “I can, and I will.” Tyra stiffened her jaw and started to walk again.

 Ylva stumbled and hurried to walk alongside her. “You have to be careful.”

 “Of course.”

 “Promise me.”

 “Nothing bad will happen.” Tyra flitted a brief smile.

 Ylva scowled, but said nothing more.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Have an Ylva chapter :3  
>  She needed to sort through some things, but... well, it looks like we're clear for the moment

Ylva stepped into the cold room and blinked, staring around. “No way…” It was _stacked_ full.

 Tyra smiled, looking up from where she was sat in the middle of it all. “You make a good hunter.”

 Legs hung up, blood no longer dripping from them. Long strips of meat were hung over racks, spread with salt. Cuts were stacked in the coldest corner, down almost below the level of the earth.

 “I – the wolf did this?” Ylva backed up, the bag of vegetables swinging in her hands.

 “Over the past couple of days.” Tyra nodded, standing up and setting the knife to the side. “Are… you alright?”

 Ylva dropped the bag and ran.

 “Ylva!”

 She left the cabin by the back door and fled blindly into the forest.

 A trap snapped shut after her, catching at her heel.

 Ylva yelped and stumbled, her momentum lost.

 “Hey.”

 “I can’t do this.” Ylva clutched at the grass and drew herself into a ball.

 Tyra caught at her foot, stroking a cool hand over the part that had just been torn by the teeth of the trap. “Yes you can.”

 “No – Tyra, I _can’t_. It’s too – I don’t remember what I’ve _done_. All those stantler…”

 “You are _helping_ us.” Tyra sat down beside her. “Ylva – what you did, as the wolf, that was… amazing. We won’t have to stretch out small scraps of meat anymore.” She half smiled. “It might be more of a struggle using it all before it goes off.”

 “Don’t.” Ylva pulled her foot away. “Can you just – leave me alone? For a bit?”

 Tyra looked away, then got to her feet. “Of course.”

 Ylva didn’t look up as her sister left. All those pokémon… she closed her eyes, screwing them shut. She’d _killed_ them all, and she didn’t remember a thing. How could Tyra be ok with that? How did she manage to keep – keep going? After all the hunting she’d done, all the pokémon she’d killed… she’d never mentioned it.

 That it could hurt after the fact.

 Her foot tingled, and she rubbed at it. The blood wiped off on her hand, but her foot didn’t hurt. Just… felt odd.

 She twisted her leg around to see her heel. It was smeared with blood, but there was no wound.

 Ylva looked at the trap, saw the skin caught in its teeth. That didn’t…

 She pulled it out, gingerly, and let it drift away. No one healed that fast.

 She was a _freak_. A werewolf.

 And one day, she would hurt her sister.

 Ylva didn’t think she could take that chance.

 Standing up carefully, she tested her hurt foot. No damage, no pain.

 She walked further into the forest, making noise almost without meaning to. She lacked her sister’s hard won stealth and grace in the forest. Pokémon fell silent almost at her approach.

 Slink appeared at her side, getting in between her feet.

 “Slink!” She stopped, so as not to trip over, and found herself inches from stepping into another trap. “Well… thanks.”

 Slink sat back and cleaned his face.

 Putting notices about the traps would probably be a little redundant, Ylva supposed, stepping carefully around it.

 “What do you think I would find if I kept walking?” Did the forest ever end? They hadn’t always lived in it, so she supposed it must. “Maybe I’ll find out.”

 Slink trotted at her side and they walked on through the trees.

 

 Ylva was fairly sure they were travelling in circles. Whether Slink was traitorously keeping her near the cabin, or whether in her bid not to walk into trees she’d kept turning towards it she wasn’t sure. All she really knew was that the trees still looked _really_ familiar and she was beginning to get hungry.

 She sighed, sliding down to sit at the base of a tree. “Fine, Slink.”

 The furret padded back to sit beside her, paws in her lap.

 She scratched at his ears. “You don’t want me to leave, hey?”

 He leant into her hand.

 “You have an unfair advantage, you know.” Ylva tilted her head back, staring up through the branches at the sky.

 Slink patted his tail against her side.

 Ylva laughed as her stomach gurgled. “I don’t suppose you know which way the cabin is, do you?”

 Slink purred, eyes half closed.

 “Obviously not.” Ylva smiled. “You’re as lost as I.” She lifted her hand away from his head.

 Slink squealed and came to attention, reaching for her hand.

 “Cabin first. Then scratches.”

 Slink rolled to his feet and padded forward, pointing through the bushes.

 Ylva pulled herself to her feet and followed after him.

 As they got closer, she began to smell cooking and, almost unbidden, started to walk faster.

 Tyra was sitting out against the wall, bow at her side and a gun in her hands that she was cleaning. “There’s food waiting inside.” She didn’t look up as Ylva stopped in front of her.

 Ylva hesitated, then nodded and went indoors.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Well, would you look at that.  
>  They can get along.  
>  Maybe this isn't such a bad gig, right?

The sisters slowly patched their lives back together. It was peaceful in a tentative sort of way.

 Tyra tried not to watch her sister at every moment of the day, and Ylva tried not to notice her sister watching her. She tried to ignore the events of the full moon, as if it had all been some terrible nightmare. As if she’d been sick, had a fever – she was willing to accept _anything_ over what had actually happened.

 “You have to chain me up.”

 “What?” Tyra looked up.

 Ylva shifted from foot to foot, glancing over her shoulder at the sky, just visible through the window. “You have to chain me up. Before night falls.”

 “Why would I do that?”

 “Because it’s…” Ylva flickered a glance over her shoulder again.

 Tyra looked over as well. “Oh.”

 “Please.” She looked back to her twin. “To – to be safe.”

 Tyra stood up, carefully setting the knives to one side. “You won’t hurt me.”

 “I… don’t want to chance it. Tyra.” She caught her sister’s arm. “It would help me. Alright?”

 Tyra searched her face. “I’ll… see if we have anything that might hold.”

 Ylva nodded and left the room ahead of her sister. “I’ll… be outside.”

 Tyra watched her sister leave, their furret at her heels. She sighed and made her way to the weapons room. “How do I make you understand? You… aren’t like the other one. You would never hurt me.” She clenched a fist. “Why won’t you _trust_ me?”

 She found ropes, coiled up in the corner. They were long and thin, and unworn. She tested a few of them, pulling them tight through her fists. They would hold.

 Ylva was sitting against a tree outside, stroking Slink as he lay sprawled in her lap.

 “I don’t like this.” Tyra joined her. “But… how should we do it?”

 Ylva eyed the ropes dubiously. “Will they hold?”

 “We don’t have anything stronger.”

 Ylva closed her eyes and nodded. “Slink, move.”

 The furret rolled from her lap and sat behind Tyra, watching.

 Tyra knelt down before her sister. “We don’t have to do this.”

 “You have to promise me,” Ylva whispered in return, taking the rope and holding a part of it against her stomach. “If I break free – you have to kill me.”

 “No. No! Ylva, how could you even _think_ that?” Tyra rocked back. “I won’t. I – I can’t. Not you.”

 “ _Promise_.” Ylva stared at her. “I don’t – I don’t want to wake up and find… and find…” She gulped.

 Tyra screwed her eyes shut, trying to keep her breathing steady. “I… I have to protect you. I can’t just…”

 “Tyra. You have to protect yourself, first.” Ylva reached out for her hand. “Promise me.”

 “I ca–” Tyra clutched at her hand.

 “Promise me!”

 Tyra opened her eyes to see Ylva staring at her, almost feverishly. “I… I will look after myself.”

 Ylva narrowed her gaze.

 “That’s all you’re getting. I can’t promise to kill you.” Tyra shook her head. “But I won’t let you kill _me_ , either.”

 Ylva nodded shortly and pressed the rope into Tyra’s hand. “Good.”

 Tyra looped the rope around Ylva and the tree several times, finishing by twisting shackles and carefully tying Ylva’s hands up to a branch above her.

 “These are not tight.” Ylva tested the ropes.

 “Well, you – you grow. When you change.” Tyra stepped back. “They’d snap straight off, if they were any tighter. Or… worse.”

 Ylva met her sister’s eyes. “Thank you.”

 Tyra shrugged and sat down.

 “No – no. You have to go inside.”

 “I’m not leaving you alone.”

 “Tyra, ple–” Ylva twisted, her words cut off.

 Tyra shuffled back instinctively, watching her sister.

 The change was a little smoother this time. She wasn’t screaming, but…

 Tyra shifted back further as fur rippled across her sister’s skin, legs and arms changing as bones shifted and muscles grew. Ylva’s clothes ripped as they became too tight, shredding in an instant.

 Slink fled to the cabin.

 With the transformation complete, Ylva stood awkwardly balanced on her hind paws, contorted against the tree behind her.

 She panted, head flicking this way and that to get her bearings.

 Tyra reached for her gun almost on instinct.

 Ylva pulled her forepaws down and the rope around them snapped, letting her land on the ground. The rope pooled away, leaving her free.

 Tyra scrambled to her feet, drawing her gun and keeping it by her side.

 The wolf snarled, taking a step towards her.

 Tyra clutched at the gun, half raised it.

 The wolf stopped, cocking her head.

 Tyra gulped and shook her own, arm trembling. She threw the gun to the side. “I can’t. I just – Ylva. I know you’re there. I _won’t hurt you_.”

 The wolf stepped forward.

 Tyra closed her eyes, biting her lip. Nails scoring cuts into her palms. She could feel the wolf’s breath as it towered over her.

 Then – it whined.

 Tyra looked up and met its eyes. Her eyes. Ylva’s eyes. They were nothing alike, and yet…

 “Ylva?” She raised a hand.

 The wolf flinched back. Tyra held steady, not breaking eye contact.

 The wolf looked away first, but leant its head towards her.

 Tyra touched it gently, and her hand sank into its fur. She felt it flick its ear, felt the muscles stiffen and then relax beneath its fur. Tentatively, she stroked it, and brought her other hand up to its nose. “I told you,” she whispered. “I _told_ you.”

 Ylva grunted and nudged into her, knocking her over.

 Tyra laughed, sprawled on the ground.

 Ylva stood over her, panting. Mouth split wide in a grin.

 Tyra hauled herself to her feet and brushed off her trousers. “What is it going to be, then?” Two days. Three nights.

 Ylva stepped away, towards the forest, her tail wagging slowly. She looked back at her sister.

 Tyra looked towards where her gun lay, and shook her head. Then she followed her sister into the night time forest.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, do, continue your bonding times.

Tyra followed the wolf through the forest, running to keep up with her steady pacing. She didn’t see much of her sister in the creature, but Ylva was there somewhere. She knew it. Maybe, with time…

 The wolf was tireless in its exploration of the forest surrounding their cabin. It seemed content to trot along, Tyra tagging along just behind it. 

 It led her into the forest and along trails she’d only walked once or twice – they were narrow, tangled with branches, and had seemed like too much hassle.

 The wolf walked them easily, despite its great bulk.

 Tyra followed in its wake, conscious of every twig breaking beneath her feet. The wolf was silent but for its panting breath.

 It seemed to have a purpose to its walk, stopping to sniff at the ground and trees every so often.

 Tyra kept back and tried to keep the path in her mind, but she knew that wouldn’t work too well. When the sun rose again, everything would be different.

 The wolf stopped still, crouching slightly.

 Tyra tilted to one side to see past it, and saw a herd of stantler at rest in a clearing before them.

 Muscles rippled across the wolf’s back, the tip of its tail flicking back and forth.

 A slight breeze gusted past them, bringing the stantler’s scent their way.

 The wolf lunged, huge and black and growling ferociously.

 The stantler barked and scattered in a panic as Tyra watched, unable to do anything about catching one herself. She only had a knife to hand, which wouldn’t be much use when they were already running.

 The wolf had one on the ground, its jaws clenched tight around its neck.

 The rest of the stantler were gone.

 Tyra stepped out of the bushes and wrinkled her nose in disgust, turning away as the wolf tore into its kill.

 The wolf paused to growl at her as she stepped further into the clearing, so she stepped back and kept her distance while it ate, examining the trees surrounding them. That first stantler, it demolished entirely, leaving cracked bones and shreds of skin on the ground.

 Then it got to its feet and shook itself before looking back at her.

 “Moving on?” she asked quietly, stepping carefully around the broken bones and tattered hide that was the only things left of the stantler.

 The wolf huffed and trotted into the forest again, tail flicking behind it.

 Tyra followed, forcing back a yawn.

 It managed to find the stantler herd again, nearer the river.

 Tyra crouched down, holding a hand up to check the air for any hint of a breeze.

 The wolf crouched down as well, slinking carefully forward. The sound of the river masked any sound they might have been making.

 It lunged, and was upon the stantler before they had any idea what was happening. Growling, it ploughed a full grown male into the ground, breaking its neck. One of the other stantler caught it a glancing blow with a hoof as they fled, and it lashed out with a massive forepaw to bring it crashing down as well.

 Tyra ran out then, bringing her knife to cut the second stantler’s throat.

 The wolf growled.

 Tyra looked up to meet its eyes.

 It still held the stantler buck in its jaws.

 She shuffled slowly back, the second dead stantler between them.

 The wolf seemed to consider her. Then it reached out a forepaw and shoved the stantler at her.

 “What?”

 It pushed it at her again before dragging its own stantler to the side, ripping it open.

 “I… ok.” Tyra stared down at the stantler. She didn’t have a bag to carry it in, of course.

 She sat down beside it and waited.

 When the wolf – Tyra couldn’t really decide _how_ to refer to it, there were times it was Ylva and times it… wasn’t so much – had finished, it looked up at her. Then at the stantler.

 She nudged it with a foot. “I can’t eat this right now, and I… don’t have anything to carry it in.”

 The wolf tilted its head, an ear flicking. Then it stood and padded over, jaws sticky with blood.

 Tyra shifted back, out of range. It towered over her even at a distance. She tried not to gulp audibly.

 It lowered its head, opening its mouth even more. Then it caught up the stantler and with a neat flick of its head, landed the corpse on its back. Looking to Tyra, it huffed in her face.

 She wrinkled her nose at the stench, waving a hand in front of her face.

 The wolf seemed to laugh and turned to the river, taking a drink. Then it padded onwards.

 Tyra scrambled to her feet and hurried after it.

 It waited long enough for her to walk at its side and then continued.

 Tyra looked up at the cloudy sky above them, seeing the moon. There were two more nights of this. Maybe by the end of it… maybe then she would have this wolf worked out. Maybe. 

 

The wolf lifted its head in an atonal howl, noise without any semblance of song. Tyra watched it, half smiling.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Winter is Coming_ ~~And so's the end of this thing~~
> 
>  So anyways. Seems like the sisters are working themselves out.

 Tyra sat in the grass outside their cabin, a pile of neatly folded clothes and a cup of water beside her.

 It was dawn of the second day after the full moon, and Ylva had just changed back into a human in front of her.

 Carefully, she pulled the blanket over her sister and moved back, attempting to focus on the book in front of her. Something about plants. She would let her sister sleep for as long as she needed to.

 Their cold room was stacked full once again. She’d spent the day before smoking as much meat as she could, salting and packing barrels with other cuts. They had enough to last out the month and beyond, easily. There were only the two of them, and meat for every meal got a bit tiring, but… well, the winter was coming. They’d be glad of it then. Not to mention all the skins…

 Tyra turned the page, not really seeing what was on it. Her eyes were slightly glazed, having slept very little in the past two days. It had been worth it, whatever Ylva would say.

 Maybe she would believe her, finally.

 Ylva groaned as she woke, pressing a hand over her eyes.

 “Here.” Tyra spoke quietly, holding the cup of water closer. “There’s plenty more.”

 Ylva held out a hand and stopped. “I’m not tied up.”

 “Well – you changed back. Seemed stupid to keep you tied up.” Tyra kept her voice light, closing the book.

 “No, I…” Ylva propped herself up, pulling the blanket up as it slipped. “I broke the ropes.”

 Tyra passed her the water. “You remember that.”

 “I – I didn’t–” Ylva’s eyes flew open, staring at her sister. “You’re not hurt.”

 “No.”

 “I didn’t… attack.”

 “Like I said.” Tyra tried not to sound _too_ smug, but it was hard. “You’d never hurt me.”

 “I remember blood. The hunt.”

 “We are stocked fit to bursting with meat,” Tyra replied. “Ylva, really. There’s no need to be afraid of it. The wolf… you let me hunt with you. You carried the stantler back here.”

 “We can make this work,” Ylva said softly, and took a drink.

 “You should really listen to me sometimes.” Tyra smiled. “I _am_ older, I know best.”

 Ylva smirked around the cup. “Is that so?”

 “In this case? Yes.”

 Tyra passed over the clothes. “How do you feel?”

 Ylva drained the cup and handed it back. “Killer headache. Little bit stiff. But… not as bad as last time.”

 “It’s getting easier?”

 Ylva pulled on the shirt, wriggling around under the blanket to get the trousers on. “Seems–” She cut off in a huge yawn.

 “Seems like bed time.” Tyra got to her feet, tucking the book under her arm. “Come on.”

 “I only just _woke_.”

 “Well… we haven’t slept much in the past couple days.” Tyra offered Ylva her hands.

 “You as well? Tyra! You said you’d look after yourself.” Ylva took her hands and stood up, bringing the blanket with her.

 Tyra grinned and tossed the cup into the air, catching it again. “A lack of sleep hasn’t killed me yet. Now. Bed.”

 “You are sleeping too.” Ylva kept hold of Tyra’s hand and led her into the house. “Come on.”

 Tyra smiled and followed after Ylva. “Good to see you back.”

 “ _Apparently_ I never really left.”

 

 Tyra, having no need to hunt, turned her hands to other tasks. She started to dig a channel down from the river to by the cabin, in an attempt to make it easier to look after the plants.

 She gave up on that after running into too many tree roots, deeming it a back breaking waste of labour. Instead, she took one of the axes out of the weapons room and roamed the forest looking for fallen trees to cut up for firewood.

 Ylva continued to look after the plants, taking cuttings to look after in the house over the coming winter as a safe guard in case the ones outside died. The berry bushes were certainly giving less as the weather grew colder, though the root vegetables like potatoes and such were continuing to grow.

 Birds flew in to eat the berries, and Slink tried to warn them off, snarling and leaping to attack. He missed nearly every time, and the sisters enjoyed watching him through the window as they cooked and made cured skins into rough clothes.

 Tyra brought all the traps back in, claiming that they really didn’t need them out. If they desperately wanted fresh meat, she’d hunt something down. But the three night hunt at the full moon had them with a surplus of meat that they were only slowly getting through. She left the fish hooks in place over the river, though. They only occasionally caught something – and often she got there after something else had already picked the bones clean – but the change in meat was welcome.

 “I really hope the water doesn’t freeze over this year.” Tyra stamped her feet – badly wrapped in some of the left over pieces of skin – against the floor in an effort to warm them up. “Because that stream is really far away.”

 “And the barrels won’t last us, I suppose.” Ylva looked up from the pot she was tending on the stove.

 “And I don’t feel like spending months drinking snow.” Tyra boosted herself to sit on the table, leaning her feet on the chair closest to the stove to warm them up. “But having to break up ice will… not be fun.”

 “The last cabin was better for that,” Ylva agreed. “We’ll find a way.” She tapped Tyra’s feet out of the way and reached for the pitcher Tyra had brought in.

 Tyra pulled her feet back and pushed the pitcher into Ylva’s hands, leaning down to unwrap her feet and rub some life back into them. “Maybe we should learn how to make shoes…”

 “I thought I saw a pair somewhere.” Ylva turned to pour some of the water into the pot.

 “Oh?” Tyra looked up. “ _Ouch_.” Her feet burned as pins and needles prickled through them.

 “In by the traps?” Ylva shrugged. “They’re probably ancient.”

 “Better than nothing!” Tyra swung down from the table and stumbled as she hit the floor, crashing forward.

 She brought her forearms up to shield her face and the chair clattered after her.

 Ylva yelped, twisting to see. “Are you alright?”

 “Nf… just sore.” Tyra shook her head and sat back on her burning feet. “Numb feet.”

 “So those shoes really _would_ be a good thing, if they’re there.” Ylva laughed slightly, picking the chair up.

 “Yes they would.” Tyra pulled herself to her feet with the help of the table and hobbled carefully out of the kitchen, wincing as the feeling came back to her feet. “That’s going to bruise.”

 There was indeed a pair of shoes by the traps – a pair of man’s hiking boots, well worn. They shifted about on Tyra’s feet, with far too much room to spare.

 “I’ll have to pad them heavily, but that’ll make them warmer.” Tyra brought them back through to the kitchen. “Nice catch.”

 Ylva shot a smile over her shoulder. “Not on the table.”

 Tyra paused and sat on one of the seats instead, placing the boots on the floor before her. “I’ll try them out tomorrow – ow…” She rested her forearms on the table and pulled them away, wincing.

 “What have you done?” Ylva turned fully.

 “Nothing. Just… sore from falling.” Tyra turned her arms to see red skin and slightly raised scratches. “Yeah, like I said. Bruises.” She lowered her arms. “It’s fine.”

 “If you’re sure.” Ylva turned back to the pot.

 Slink trotted in, head high as he dragged a plump dead pidgey alongside him.

 “Oh – hey, not in here.” Tyra stretched out a foot to stop him. “Take that back outside, Slink.”

 He stopped and looked up at her, mouth full of feathers.

 “I know it’s cold out there.” She pressed one of her feet into his fur. “That’s why you get to grow a winter coat.”

 Slink flinched back from her foot, dropping the pidgey to squeal at her.

 “Outside with that.” Tyra laughed and pulled back. “Go on.”

 “He actually caught one of them?” Ylva craned over the table to see. “I’m impressed.”

 “He’s been trying long enough.” Tyra watched as the furret picked up the pidgey and left, tail stiff behind him. “I think I’ve offended him.”

 “Congratulate him later.” Ylva shrugged. “In the meantime – we can eat too.”

 “Oh, excellent.” Tyra stood, getting plates and cutlery. “I am _starving_.”

 “Are you never not?” Ylva hauled the pan off the stove and onto the table.

 “When I’ve just eaten. Then I’m only a little bit hungry.” Tyra grinned, putting the plates down beside the pot.

 “Of course.” Ylva laughed, ladling out their food. “Well… hopefully this’ll keep you going for longer.”

 “Should do.” Tyra watched the stew being ladled out, then danced around her sister to get the other pan for the potatoes to go with it. “Perfect stodge.”

 They sat down to eat. Outside, it started to snow.

 The winter was here.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Oh, and they were getting along _so_ well, too.  
>   Damn the rest of the world, am I right? It still exists ^^
> 
>  And kinda [this music](https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bLlWXFY1vY) for the first run through the forest, 'kay?

 Tyra held Ylva’s neatly folded clothes to her chest, feeling the last warmth drain out of them. Objectively, this made sense. No more ripped clothes. But even after two months of watching her sister do this… her willingness to walk out into _this_ level of snow naked – even though she was turning into an animal with more than enough fur – was… insane. Tyra was glad she didn’t have to do this.

 Ylva’s change had finished and she stood in the dark outside, barely visible but for where she was dark against the snow’s white. She huffed in Tyra’s direction, padding closer.

 “Hunt on your own tonight,” Tyra said. “It’s far too cold for me.”

 Ylva panted in Tyra’s face, hot and meaty.

 Tyra wrinkled and turned away. “Thanks. But really, go on.”

 Ylva butted her head into Tyra, whining.

 Tyra almost toppled over. “What d’you want? Go on, just go.”

 Ylva offered her side, crouching down.

 “What? No way.” Tyra shook her head. “No… no way. Really?”

 Ylva looked around, whining slightly.

 “I’ll… be right back.” Tyra whirled back into the cabin.

 She dropped the clothes onto a chair just inside the living room and ran to grab a bow, the arrows, and their old battered game bag.

 Maybe Ylva would be gone by the time she got back to the door. Maybe she would have given up on this as a bad idea.

 Maybe she was just joking.

 Either way.

 Tyra grinned and sat down to pull on the boots, now padded out with soft skins and feathers, enough to keep her feet warm and from rubbing.

 She hesitated before leaving the cabin, and ran back to the kitchen to pull out some dried meat for her to eat. Ylva rarely brought them back to the cabin until the hunting days were fully over.

 Ylva was still waiting, in almost the same position.

 Tyra pulled on a cape and wrapped it around herself as she closed the door, covering over her head. Then she stepped forward and carefully put a hand on Ylva’s back.

 Ylva kept still, breath pluming into the cold air.

 Tyra could feel the energy thrumming through her, the warmth burning beneath her hand. “This is _insane_.”

 Ylva huffed, tail twitching.

 “Alright, alright.” Tyra scrambled awkwardly onto her sister’s back. “But this is strange, alright?”

 Ylva stood upright and Tyra lurched, gripping at her fur.

 “For both of us, I guess.”

 Owl circled above them, silent in the snow. Slink stood up on the porch and then plunged into the snow, following them.

 Ylva padded into the forest with Tyra riding on her back.

 The motion of it was strange, from side to side rather than back to front as Tyra had expected. It took a while to get used to, to steady herself properly. She had to duck under the trees now, so much higher up than she was used to.

 Ylva found a wider path – one that had been cleared by long use – and picked up her pace.

 Tyra bounced on her back and crouched down, blinking snow away from her eyes.

 They flew along the path and the forest blurred black around them. Owl flew above them, easily keeping up. Tyra hadn’t noticed Slink in a while, but she was mostly concentrating on not falling off.

 The river curled across their path, much wider than where it neared their cabin. It was frozen solid, fish trapped in its depths.

 Tyra felt the shift in Ylva’s muscles moments before she leapt, and gripped at her fur. When they landed on the other side and didn’t fall apart, she laughed. Then she whooped, raising her hands to punch the sky.

 Ylva let out quick barks, and the sisters woke up the night.

 

Tyra woke in the late afternoon, deliciously warm and comfortable. Their bed was getting more and more stacked with patchwork fur quilts made from the scraps left over after clothes, and it was _amazing._ She turned, burying her cold face in one of the thicker furs, its length trapping heat magnificently.

 Ylva was warm against her back, breathing heavily.

 Birds trilled cautiously above them, and the scent of raw meat was thick in the –

 Wait.

 Tyra opened her eyes properly and saw the forest. Her breath plumed out in front of her, thick in the cold air.

 Ylva _was_ against her back… and curled around her sides… her tail thumped lazily against the ground as her legs twitched.

 Tyra remembered the wild ride of the night before, being carried through massive tracts of the forest on the wolf that was her sister. She remembered the hunt, and howling with Ylva afterwards in glorious atonal, voice breaking victory.

 Her bow was hanging from a nearby tree, as were her game bag and the quiver of arrows.

 Ylva’s head swung her way and she opened her jaws tongue lolling out.

 Tyra wrinkled her nose as the meaty breath washed over her and gently extricated herself from her sister’s sleeping form.

 Slink was curled between the antlers of a dead stantler, face buried in his own side. Owl watched them from a high branch, eyes half shut against the dying sunlight.

 Tyra yelped as her feet hit the cold, half frozen ground, and searched for her boots to pull them on. At least she hadn’t taken off her clothes, because _that_ definitely would’ve been too far.

 Her noise – however quiet – woke Ylva. She was on her feet in moments, nudging past Tyra to get at the dead stantler.

 Tyra tried to ignore the sounds of cracking bones and ripping flesh, moving to pick up the rest of her gear. The game bag was half full already – there had been two stantlers to fall, one to Ylva’s teeth and the other to Tyra’s bow. Not that they needed the meat, but it was good to have.

 It was good to hunt, especially in the company of her sister… even if her sister was a wolf at the time.

 Ylva grunted over her shoulder at Tyra and trotted off.

 She’d take what she could get.

 Tyra swung the bag and the bow over her shoulder and hurried to follow, Slink at her heels. “So I’m not getting a ride today?” she called forward.

 Ylva flicked her tail back, catching Tyra a glancing blow that stung across her face.

 Tyra blinked away tears and laughed, looking back to make sure Owl was following as well. “A one off, then.” It had, however, been an _amazing_ one off.

 Ylva found the frozen river and sniffed at the ice.

 Tyra started to step forward, bringing out her knife. She stopped when Ylva raised herself up on her hind legs to a massive height, bringing her forepaws crashing down.

 The ice cracked, and she did it again and again until it had broken enough for her to get at the water that wasn’t frozen for a long drink.

 Slink snuck forward, coming up between her forepaws, and drank as well.

 Ylva lifted her head to look down at him, jaws dripping water.

 A drop hit Slink and he tumbled backwards over himself in an effort to get away.

 “You should play nicely with him.” Tyra laughed, crouching to pick up the furret.

 Ylva let out a strange coughing bark, turning to grin widely at them and padding away from the opening in the ice she’d made.

 Tyra drank quickly, shivering at the sheer coldness of it, and stood again. “Where to, oh great hunter?”

 Ylva froze, head raised to scent the air. An ear flicked.

 Tyra reached for her bow, looking around. She couldn’t see anything, but she trusted Ylva.

 Ylva darted into the trees, disappearing from sight.

 Tyra hesitated only for a moment, then ran after her, kicking snow in an attempt to hide their tracks. That wasn’t a run that meant hunting. That meant hiding. Something was wrong.

 She heard the voices maybe a minute or so after she’d hurried out of sight. Human voices; rougher and lower than hers or her sister’s, but… human voices.

 She scaled a tree – Ylva had disappeared further into the forest, leaving barely any trace of her being there. Slink was waiting on one of the higher branches, looking down. Owl was nowhere to be seen.

 “Are you _sure_ you heard someone? There’s no one lives out here.”

 “I heard a voice.”

 “Vampire, maybe?”

 “Don’t be stupid, this far from civilisation? _And_ in the middle of the day?”

 Tyra gripped her bow, wishing she’d brought a gun. She watched as the people – two men, burly and baring guns of their own, far bigger than anything she had – walked up along the bank of the river.

 “Well _someone’s_ been here.” One of them kicked over the snow she’d scraped at.

 “Something big.” The other gestured at the broken ice with his gun. “You don’t think…”

 “Not together.” The first shook his head. “But there is one.”

 The second looked around, and Tyra stared at his face. Darker skin than her or her sister. Scars criss-crossed his face – what she could see of it – and his eyes were hard and dark brown. He held his gun easily, for all its size.

 Tyra shrank back, trying not to jostle the tree.

 “Come on. He can’t’ve got far.” The first started towards the trees.

 “He? It’s a _monster_.”

 The first sighed loudly and pointed to the scraped up snow. “The human, idiot. Probably another hunter.”

 “Oh… you think he’s hunting the beast as well?”

 “It’s likely. A feral brings in a lot of money these days.”

 It was only the knowledge that she couldn’t take them both down before one of them could target her that kept Tyra from firing at them. They were talking about _Ylva_? They wouldn’t have her.

 “That’s strange.”

 “What?”

 “His tracks… disappear.”

 The second man – Scar, she’d call him, for ease – was still along the river bank. “Over here.”

 The first – Tyra couldn’t make out any defining features on him, he kept himself wrapped up well – turned back. “Found something?”

 “His tracks coming _to_ the river. Must lead back to a camp, right?”

 “We can wait for him.”

 She could hear the cruel enjoyment in his voice, though. That much was clear.

 He wouldn’t find her. He _couldn’t_.

 She would make sure of that.

 The two men walked away along her trail.

 Tyra stayed still, almost frozen to the tree. Only when she was absolutely sure they were gone did she drop down, and make her way to the iced up river. They wouldn’t find her tracks back to the cabin, anyway. She would be ready for them.

 Maybe they could hide.

 Ylva wouldn’t understand, she was stuck as a wolf for the next two nights.

  _Why_ was everything getting messed up? Why did these men have to come through now?

 They’d left the outside world alone; couldn’t it leave them alone in turn?


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Sure, Tyra. Keep worrying about your sister.  
>  It's not like you're the more fragile one now or anything.

Tyra made her way back to the cabin, slowly and carefully. At every sudden sound, she froze. Just knowing there were men – other people – in _their_ forest was torturous. That they were hunting Ylva… it was almost more than she could bear.

 The outside world was breaking in, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t want anything to do with it. They were _happy_ without it.

 Night fell, cold and full of lanky shadows. The full moon was high above her. Snow glittered in the clear light, throwing odd reflections up against the stark trees. Shadows were long and jagged, frozen by the still night.

 Tyra crunched through the snow, bag held over her shoulder and bow clenched in her other, half-frozen hand.

 Owl hooted, dislodging snow from a branch as he landed ahead of her.

 Tyra looked up, blinking. Beyond that tree, the forest cleared. The empty blackness of the cabin was squat against silhouettes. They were back.

 Her feet dragged through the snow, leaving a clear trail to the door. She couldn’t bring herself to care about the tracks leading straight there, as she hadn’t since night fell.

 Slink padded in her wake, tail dragging behind him.

 Owl glided overhead and landed on his perch above the door, settling in to keep watch.

 Tyra pushed open the door to a cold cabin and snow started to fall behind her, slowly and steadily.

 Slink darted in before she closed the door and watched as she hung the bow up on the pegs beside the door, her cape and jacket beside it.

 Then she tugged off the boots, flexing her stiff, chilled toes. She hung the stuffed game bag up in the cold room and closed the door on it. A chore for tomorrow. In this weather, it would keep for a while longer than usual.

 Ylva wasn’t nearby. Tyra glanced out at the dark forest, snow almost glowing before it. She couldn’t see very far, but she knew. Her sister was far outside walking range of the cabin.

 She would come back. Wouldn’t she?

 Slink whined, rubbing along her bare ankles.

 “Tomorrow,” Tyra murmured, crouching to pick the furret up. “We’ll go and find her first. We’ll keep her safe.”

 

 The door opening was a distant sound, the softest of echoes. Tyra almost didn’t register it at all from the bed, where she lay limp under their blankets.

 “Tyra?”

 Tyra shifted, blinking bleary eyes. She didn’t want to move…

 “Tyra!” Ylva leant over her, and Tyra could barely focus on her face; a watery-pale oval set with dark eyes. “What’s–” She pressed a cool hand to Tyra’s forehead. “What do I do?”

 Tyra closed her eyes, shifting nearer to press her burning forehead into Ylva’s hand. “Stay there.”

 “How long have you been sick?” Ylva pressed both hands to Tyra’s cheeks, sitting on the bed beside her. She wore Tyra’s rough cape, and that was all.

 “You ran away,” Tyra whispered. “I never went to look.”

 Ylva wiped greasy hair from Tyra’s sweaty forehead. “I came back.”

 “There’s… danger.” Tyra frowned, trying to remember. “I have… I have to…” She struggled as if to get up.

 Ylva pushed her back down. “ _You_ don’t have to do anything. Tell me what I need to do.”

 Tyra closed her eyes and sighed, her breathing softening.

 Ylva sighed and watched her sister sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Well, everything's totally fine and dandy.  
>  Aren't we just loving that false sense of security?

Four days.

 It took four days for Tyra’s fever to break, and Ylva didn’t do much but watch her sister anxiously through every minute. She plied her with soup and stoked up a fire in the bedroom, referring constantly to one of the books from the sitting room; a handy little guide to illnesses and how to treat them in the forest.

 Tyra spent a lot of time in broken sleep, tossing and turning under the blankets Ylva had heaped up on top of her. Ylva forced herself to stay awake to look after her sister, keeping herself as busy as possible and snatching sleep only in short bursts.

 When Tyra did wake lucidly, Ylva had given in to her tiredness. She was curled into Tyra’s side, on top of the blankets.

 Tyra smiled softly and pulled a hand free to stroke stray hairs away from Ylva’s face.

 Ylva moaned and blinked slowly awake. “Tyra…?”

 “Go back to sleep,” Tyra whispered. “I’m here.”

 Ylva was back, warm and soft and safe beside her.

 Tyra didn’t know how many days she’d been ill, only that now her sister was here. They were together again, and everything was as it should–

 The hunters.

 Tyra was properly awake, icy fingers trailing down from the base of her neck. Had they found them? What if they’d set up traps, what if they were waiting out there for them?

 “Ylva.” Tyra touched her shoulder. “Ylva. Have you… seen anyone else?”

 “Like who?” Ylva lifted her head. “Did something happen?”

 “I saw – there were people. In the forest.” Tyra wriggled her way out of the blankets.

 “Don’t you get up!” Ylva rolled off the bed. “You’re still–”

 “I’m fine.” Tyra stood up, carefully testing her balance. The blood rushed to her head, sending everything spinning and pulsing red. “I… really need a bath.” She wrinkled her nose. “And something to eat.”

 Ylva smiled. “I’ll go and start sorting that.”

 Tyra nodded and fumbled her way across the dim room to the window.

 Ylva walked with an unconscious confidence and grace, almost instinctively knowing where everything was in her way.

 As the door clicked shut behind her, Tyra twitched the curtain open.

 Sunlight lanced into the room, stinging her eyes.

 Tyra squinted, partially shielding her eyes until they adjusted.

 More snow had fallen in thick drifts up against the trees. The sunlight ahd set it sparkling, brilliant and mostly untouched.

 She could faintly see Slink’s light tracks. Nothing else, nothing out of the ordinary.

 “The water is starting to heat up. I’m making soup… more soup.” Ylva smiled. “But we can use one of the cans. Since you’re better.”

 Tyra turned, nodding. “I’ll be right there.”

 Ylva flickered her gaze about the room and nodded, moving to pick up bowls and cups she’d left about it.

 Tyra let the curtain fall shut, swamping the room in muggy darkness. Blinking as she got accustomed to the dim light again, she picked up a clean set of clothes and a hide that would pass for a towel before following Ylva through to the kitchen.

 She shivered, finding everywhere cold after the bedroom.

 “I… haven’t really been keeping it warm,” Ylva said, glancing back. “Sorry.”

 “Better to save the wood.” Tyra shrugged, squeezing past her sister to open the door to the kitchen. “I need to cut more.”

 “Don’t… rush into it.” Ylva put the bowls and cups down beside the sink. “You’re barely out of bed.”

 Tyra sat beside the steaming pot of water and peeled off her days old clothes. “How long was I ill?”

 “I… am not sure.” Ylva shook her head, concentrating on cutting up vegetables. “When I came back, you were ill already.”

 “How long?” Tyra washed swiftly, scraping at her skin with a cloth. Her skin began to steam as the hot water as the hot water warmed both her and the air around her.

 “Four days.”

 Tyra pulled the pot off the heat before it boiled properly, and plunged her head into it.

 Four days. Anything could have happened.

 “Is this about the people you saw?” Ylva asked, as Tyra brought her head back out.

 Tyra wiped the water away from her eyes and took a deep breath as water splashed back into the pot from her hair.

 “Tyra?”

 “Sorry.” Tyra grabbed the hide and dried herself off, getting dressed. “They were hunters. I… think they were looking for werewolves.”

 Ylva stopped, holding a double handful of vegetables to put in the waiting pot.

 Tyra rubbed the towel over her head, tousling her short hair into damp spikes.

 “They’re here for me?”

 “No.”

 “They’re looking for werewolves.” Ylva dropped the vegetables into the pot, setting it over the empty hob.

 Tyra put the hide towel down. “They’re not going to find you.”

 Ylva attempted a small smile, crouching to get a tin from one of the cupboards. “I suppose they _will_ be looking for a beast.”

 “And a man. My boots confused them.”

 Ylva set down the tin and stirred the pot, turning away to fill a bowl of water. “We’re safe, then.”

 Tyra twisted her hands. “Should be.” She stood, turning away. “Your turn to wash.”

 Ylva nodded slowly, pouring the water into the pan with the vegetables, adding a bone that still had meat stuck to it.

 “I – I’ll fix up the bedroom. Needs airing out.” Tyra left abruptly, fighting the trembling in her hands.

 

 Tyra operated on a tightrope’s width of calm over the next days, nervy and distractable.

 The stantler met hung untended in the cold room as Tyra chose to work outside, cutting wood and collecting water. Keeping an eye out for any sign of the two men.

 Ylva attempted to deal with the meat and couldn’t, unable to hold the big cleaving knife without trembling. She watched her sister and tried not to let her worry show.

 The hunters made no appearance.

 Slink and Owl made their hunting trips alone, and never brought back any sign of them.

 Tyra slowly dared to relax, to hope. By this point it had been almost two weeks since she had seen them. Perhaps they had moved on.

 The snow melted away as the months past, and the sisters fell back into their old habits, their lives back on track.

 Ylva’s plants had survived the winter and flowered with the rest of the forest, seeding new shows and growing again.

 As the nights grew shorter and lighter, Tyra started to leave out the taps again. The stantler had mostly left their range, and now Ylva could only bring one back if she ranged far from the house.

 Although Tyra didn’t forget the hunters, she put them out of her mind. They became less important as life went on.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Woops. Nice going, that.  
> Ha, Friday 13th. Suppose it was unlucky for them :3  
> 

 Tyra walked back through damp grass, two pidgey, an aipom and a rattata swinging from her hand. Many of the traps had been empty, mostly untouched. Moved by a centimetre or two, nothing big. Probably some of the pokémon getting clever to their working.

 Owl hooted, warning.

 Tyra stopped still, head flicking up. Before her was the clearing, their cabin. Two men stood in front of it.

 She stepped back, clutching at the bow in her other hand. Not good. Calm. Calm breathing.

 She set down the bow and her kills, crouching at the level of the bushes.

 Where was Ylva?

 Tyra loosened the gun at her side, watching. They couldn’t be vampires, there was too much sunlight. She also didn’t think vampires would just… wait like that.

 Just men. As if that made it any better.

 What could she do? If Ylva was inside, she couldn’t just leave. If they were just hunters, other people living in the forest – maybe it would be ok. But…

 Tyra stood, and stepped out from between the trees.

 As she moved into the clearing, Owl took off from his perch and glided to her. Tyra raised her left arm for him to land on.

 The two men turned, following the noctowl’s flight to her.

 Tyra tried not to twitch her free hand towards the gun.

 “Do you live here?”

 She recognised his voice; he was the man that had kept his face fully covered, back in the winter. The other – Tyra sucked in a breath, flicking her gaze over him – was Scar. They were back.

 “Hey. You dumb?” The first clicked his fingers.

 Tyra blinked. “I live here.”

 He flicked his gaze over her. “Alone?” He lingered on her bare feet.

 Tyra shifted her weight. “What does it matter?”

 “Humanity needs protecting, and… well, it would be easier if you came with us. Lived with the rest of everyone.”

 “I don’t need protecting.”

 “I’m sure you don’t. Self-sufficient, are you? Hunting as well?”

 Tyra took a step back. Her arm – Owl still sitting on it – shook. She looked past them, to the cabin. “I get by.”

 “Maybe you’d rather be _doing_ the protecting. Ever thought about joining the army?”

 “It’s not her,” Scar said, turning. “She must be–”

 “Don’t.” Tyra drew her gun.

 Owl took off, letting out a warning screech.

 “Something to hide?” The first crooked an eyebrow, smirking.

 Tyra held her gun steady, pointed at Scar’s back. “Step away from my home.”

 “You won’t shoot. Never killed a man, have you? I can tell.”

 Tyra flicked the catch. “I’ve killed plenty monsters.”

 “Like your sister?”

 “Tyra? I heard Owl, and–” Ylva stepped around the side of the cabin.

 “Ylva, get away!”

 Scar lunged to grab Ylva, who shrieked and stumbled away, turning to run.

 Tyra squeezed the trigger, and the shot rang out across the clearing.

 Scar caught Ylva by the wrist and yanked her back.

 The other man laughed. “Didn’t think you had it in you.” He trained his own gun on Tyra. “Now, be sensible.”

 “Let her go.” Tyra trained her gun on Scar’s head. “I mean it.” She’d missed, but she wouldn’t do that again.

 “I don’t think so.” Scar held Ylva tight to his chest, using her as a shield.

 Ylva struggled uselessly, unable to break free.

 “Get her to the transport.”

 “Tyra!”

 Tyra’s hands were shaking, and she struggled to hold the gun steady. She risked shooting her sister – she couldn’t let them take her – she couldn’t shoot. She couldn’t –

 Owl screeched and wheeled to rake claws across Scar’s scalp.

 Tyra ran at them, changing her grip on the gun to use it as a club. “Let her _go_!”

 The other man caught her and threw her to the ground, a foot on her back.

 Tyra twisted, and Slink leapt to attack from the grass, biting into his leg.

 Ylva was screaming, struggling, and Scar was waving a hand to force Owl away.

 “Stay down.” The cold barrel of a gun pressed against Tyra’s head. “I don’t want to kill a human.”

 Tyra tried to wriggle free. “Let her go!” She tried to bring her gun up, and he kicked it out of her hand.

 Slink yelped, hitting the ground nearby.

 Owl circled away, avoiding being shot at.

 Scar slammed the handle of his own gun into Ylva’s head, and she went limp.

 “Ylva!” Tyra twisted, trying to buck the man off.

 He stepped off her back and ran to join Scar, and the two of them started to jog away. He spoke into something – an intercom, maybe, or a radio – and Tyra heard a motor start up, whipping the trees in a wind.

 Tyra pushed herself to her feet and ran after them.

 The leader turned, raised his gun and fired, all in one smooth movement.

 Tyra hit the ground, her leg burning. She grabbed at it, screaming – her sister’s name, a wordless cry – she tried to pull herself after them.

 A machine in the sky, lowering a ladder.

 Tyra watched as they grabbed hold of it, and it pulled them away. “Ylva! Owl – after them!”

 Owl turned in a graceful circle and followed the vehicle.

 Tyra kept her eyes on it, biting back tears until she couldn’t see it anymore.

 Slink nudged at her face as she keeled into the grass, her leg burning.

 “She’s gone, she’s gone she’s gone,” Tyra whispered, the mantra the only thing keeping her conscious. “I said I would protect her, Slink.”

 She needed to see to her leg.

 Her sister was gone.

 Tyra clenched a fist. She wouldn’t _stay_ gone. “I’m coming, Ylva.”

 

 Tyra dug the bullet out of her leg; it had missed everything major, but still managed to bleed furiously. She cleaned it and bandaged it, then set about getting ready to leave.

 Owl hadn’t returned.

 Tyra stripped the house bare, dumping it all into the bedroom before she worked out what to take. Dried food, clothes, weapons. One or two blankets. Buns – now worn and falling apart – made it into the bag as well. Everything else was left behind.

 She made herself a crutch and forced herself to walk, limping, around the cabin, checking that she had everything.

 The raw meat in the cold room she left in a pile at the edge of the clearing, dismantling the traps and stacking them back inside. Every perishable scrap of food in the house was thrown out onto the grass, The cans were left in the cupboards; too heavy to carry, and they wouldn’t go stale. Maybe someone else would find the cabin and make use of them.

 She left the books, too. Too much weight, and unnecessary where she was going.

 A week after Ylva was taken, Tyra was ready to leave.

 With Slink at her heels – the furret hadn’t left her side once – she made one last circuit of the cabin, making sure everything was neat and tidy. Then she lifted the bag onto her back, made sure the gun was at her hip and the bow over her shoulder, and closed the door behind her.

 “I’m coming, Ylva,” she whispered, walking into the forest. “I’m coming.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  And here we are. A short piece to end on.  
>  Yes, that is the end of _Tyra's Tale_.  
>   No, there isn't going to be a sequel but I have it on good authority that they do in fact find each other again.  
>   _Tyra's Tale_ is a novella side-story to a bigger set of books in ToL-verse that one of the (2 nd gen) characters really likes, all about vampires and werewolves and war in Johto. Fun times.  
>  The idea for it all is [Werebudgie](https://werebudgie.deviantart.com)'s, and she allowed me to write up this novella because... I don't know. I think I might've pushed and she wasn't going to give me the main books (there are too many of them anyhow) so I got to play about with the sisters (and potentially only 'cause I wrote one bit while the twins (my first ToLtwins) acted as them which she kinda liked).  
>  Fun times all round.
> 
>  Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little foray into... stuff I don't normally write. Interesting mix.
> 
> Come ask us questions on tumblr! @werebudgie and @Captainnightgale  
>  But all the detail 'n' technical stuff can go to Werebudgie, they're her creation first and foremost

 The moon had gone full when Tyra found the edge of the forest.

 Owl had found them a week before that, and led them true to the edge of it, following Ylva’s trail.

 Now the three of them stared down across a barren field, blasted and broken. Nothing grew there. A hulking mass of a building squatted low, surrounded by a barbed wire fence that sparkled with stones.

 There were vehicles around it, some of the sort that had taken Ylva.

 Tyra barely hesitated on the edge of the forest, swinging forward into her lopsided gait and moving on, eyes focused on the building.

 “Halt.”

 She stopped at the gate, looking up at the guard. “What?”

 “Your purpose here?”

 “I’m looking for–” she broke off. “I want to join the army.”

 The soldier looked her over, from her ill-fitting boots to her rough clothes, to her short and spiky hair. He caught on the guns at her side, and the bow over her shoulder.

 Tyra stood still during the inspection, favouring her leg.

 “Into the main building,” he said eventually. “They’ll direct you.”

 Tyra nodded and moved past him. Owl landed on the top of her bag, shuffling his wings behind her head. Slink kept close to her ankles.

 It had been the army that had taken Ylva. This was how to find her. She could do this. She had to.

 The main building had more guards at its entrance, but they didn’t stop her trying to go in.

 Inside, her boots echoed against the cold stone walls and floor. Very few people about.

 Tyra hesitated, then saw someone standing, examining a clipboard. She walked across to him. “Where do I sign up?”

 “You’re late.” He flicked a glance over her. “ _And_ young.”

 “Old enough,” she replied, straightening up. “And I’m here now.”

 The man let out a brief laugh. “You’ll do well. Name?”

 “Tyra.”

 “Age?”

 She hesitated. “Eighteen.” It was as good a guess as any.

 He considered her for a long moment.

 Tyra shifted her feet, hand growing slippery on the crutch.

 “Welcome to our ranks, Tyra.” He nodded. “Come with me, we’ll have you checked over and kitted out.”

 Tyra nodded and walked after him, trying not to stare around too much. She was coming. She would find her sister.

 Nothing could stop her, not a war, not the vampires, _nothing_.

 Luck help anyone that got in her way.

**Author's Note:**

>  Nothing like a bit of death to start off the story, am I right?  
>  Ha.  
>  Welcome to _Tyra's Tale_ , everybody. It's pokemon, but it's... barely pokemon. So hey.  
>  Hope you enjoy the ride


End file.
